


The Story of Us

by moomoomeep



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Friendship, Identity Issues, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Memory Loss, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Paced, past trauma, post winter soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-03 08:04:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 24,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1737362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moomoomeep/pseuds/moomoomeep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve follows Bucky. Bucky follows Steve. </p><p>"Til the end of the line, right?"</p><p>"Yeah, end of the line."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by: "The Story of Us" by Taylor Swift.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters.

They find Bucky in Brooklyn five months after the Helicarrier disaster in D.C.

And in their former apartment complex, no less.

Steve is surprised and shocked when he opens the door to their old apartment and is immediately tackled to the ground by Bucky, who is shouting at him in Russian and gesturing wildly all while attempting to stab him with the knife clutched tightly in his metal hand. It takes Steve and Sam longer than they would have liked to convince Bucky that they’re not Hydra and to stop attacking Steve so he can listen to what they have to say.

*

“You want me to go with you?” Bucky says, now standing on the opposite side of the room, twirling a knife between his metal fingers.

Steve nods his head in confirmation after spending the last ten minutes explaining how dangerous it is for Bucky to be by himself with Hydra on the loose and that they would be stronger as a team. “Fury has a safe house near Sterling Forest we can stay in—it’s completely isolated; the closet town is Warwick and that’s roughly twenty miles away.”

Bucky ponders over his words, body tensing as a suspicious look crosses over his features. “Why should I trust you?”

“Because it’s either us or Hydra,” Sam says bluntly. “Hydra won’t stop until they have you back. You can only run for so long and you know what they say about running, once you start—”

“You don’t stop; yeah, I’ve heard that before,” Bucky responds, stilling the knife in his hand as his eyes roams over Steve’s face.

Steve shifts nervously under Bucky’s gaze, adjusting his shield on his arm, remembering all of the times Bucky yelled at him for not backing down from a fight. _(“Once you start running, you don’t stop," Steve had said. "And neither do they.”)_

“How much do you remember?” the blond asks.

Bucky licks his lips and Steve unconsciously follows the movement. “Not much. Just flashes—bits from being Winter Soldier, bits from before the war—”

The brunet cuts himself off, biting down on his lower lip, but Steve swears he was about to say ‘ _you._ ’

Steve takes the pause in their conversation to run his eyes over his friend, taking in his condition. Bucky looks the same as he did when they were younger aside from the longer hair that falls to his shoulders, stubble, metal arm, and baggy clothes that don’t fit him. He meets Bucky’s eyes and his breath catches in his throat—he’s the same, he’s different, and he’s still the most beautiful person Steve has ever laid eyes on.

“So, what do you say?” Sam says pulling the pair out of their trance. “You want to come with us?”

Bucky purses his lips as he thinks over his decision. After a few moments, his body relaxes and he sheaves his knife, glancing between the pair—eyes lingering on Steve—before nodding. “Alright.”

*

They steal a car from a parking garage after Bucky packs his few possessions (a razor, shampoo and conditioner, soap, rifle, pistol, knives) in a brown back he claimed to have found in an alley upon Sam asking— the price tag still attached to one of straps invalidates his statement, but neither call him out on it.

Sam checks the interior and exterior of the car, making sure there are no bugs or anything that could reveal their location. Steve tears the license plates from the car, crumpling each of them into a ball before tossing them in a bin nearby. Bucky watches the two of them work calmly from the backseat, backpack sitting on the floor next to his feet, eyes darting around as if looking for threats.

Steve sighs heavily, sliding into the passenger side and shutting the door behind him. He looks into the side mirror and notices Bucky looking at him with a curious expression on his face. Steve looks back, not knowing what to make of that look. Bucky opens his mouth to speak when the driver’s side door opens and Sam slides in behind the wheel before immediately pushing his seat back. He pulls a screwdriver and wire cutters out of his pocket before beginning to unscrew the panel from underneath the steering wheel.

When Steve first noticed that Sam carried both of those items on his person, he questioned as to why he might need them _(“You never know when you’re gonna be in a pinch and be like ‘man, I could easily solve this with a screwdriver and some wire cutters,’” Sam had said with a grin)_. Watching him remove panel and swapping the screwdriver for the cutters, Steve can now see why.

“You know how to hot wire a car?” the blond questions, genuinely curious on where the man could have picked up this skill.

“I ran with some bad people when I was a teenager and they me how—among other things. I stayed with them for a few years before I wanted out so I joined the U.S. Air Force Pararescue division to try and do some good, you know, let go of some of that anger I had bottled up. After that, well, you know the rest.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say—Sam’s never told him any of this before. Aside from his time in the army, the other man hasn’t mentioned much of his past. Steve moves to place a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I’m glad you got out.”

“Yeah,” Sam says, sounding distant. “Me too.”

The car starts up and Sam lets a small smile cross his face. Sometimes, old habits just won’t die. He screws the panel back into place and puts the car into reverse. “Let’s bounce.”

*

They make a quick stop at the motel where Steve and Sam have been staying for the past few days to grab their bags. Sam runs inside while Steve stays with Bucky, afraid that the other man might run if he’s left alone. The pair sits in silence, mostly because Steve doesn’t know what to say. Bucky keeps fixing him this look that he can’t identify—like he wants to say something by doesn’t fully know what Steve’s reaction might be.

Sam returns before either of them can speak, tossing the bags into the trunk, and climbing behind the wheel. He pulls away from the curb and they make their way out of the city with no trouble, heading Northwest.

Skyscrapers and interstate slowly turn into quiet forest roads and tall trees looming on either side of the car. The area is gorgeous—still as gorgeous as Steve remembers. He and Bucky went camping up here once when they were younger—Bucky had a rare two days off and Steve wanted to draw the scenery. Those are some of Steve’s fondest memories, even though he did have a massive allergy attack, got poison ivy, and Bucky fussed claiming the trip wasn’t worth it but it completely was. Seeing Bucky happy, smiling, laughing and relaxing especially after all the hard work he did so they could make ends meet, was worth the negatives that fell from their little adventure.

“Have we been here before?” Bucky asks, breaking the silence and pulling Steve from his thoughts.

“Yeah,” Steve says with a small, nostalgic smile. “We went camping.”

Bucky doesn’t respond, just turns his head to look outside the window, with a curious expression on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

The safe house is a two-story cabin nestled in between two large oak trees. Sam pulls up as close as he can to the side of the cabin, in an attempt to keep the car hidden from view, and shuts off the ignition before reaching down and popping the trunk. The three men climb out of the car, Bucky sliding his backpack onto his shoulders while Steve grabs his and Sam’s bags from the back. Sam closes the trunk after their bags (and Steve’s fingers) are clear. The Captain walks ahead and leads the way to the cabin full aware of Sam and Bucky trailing behind him.

“Fury give you the keys to this place?” Sam asks.

“Uh . . . no,” Steve says.

“Well how are we supposed to get in?”

The Captain doesn’t answer and after a moment, Sam realizes why.

“Fury doesn’t even know we’re here?” Sam questions.

“Well, not exactly . . .” Steve sets the bags on the ground and kneels in front of the door, noting Sam’s voice coming from his left and Bucky hovering on his right. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a paperclip, twisting the object to how he wants it before inserting the tip on the keyhole and fiddling with it.

“Aw, shit. I didn’t realize that breaking and entering was your style.”

“It’s not.”

“Bullshit because there was the time was this punk kid hated our neighbor’s cat and—” He cuts himself off without finishing the thought

Steve turns and meets Bucky’s eyes, noting the fear and uncertainty. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want to complete the memory in case he’s wrong. Steve pushes back his anger at Hydra in order to focus completely on Bucky, nodding his confirmation. “Yeah, that cat kept scratching us and pissing everywhere. I picked her lock and let it go—we never saw that furball again.”

There’s so much history between them yet none at all. They’ve lost some much time yet have all the time in the world. Everything around them is different and confusing yet the threat of Hydra and the need to stop them remains the same.

 _‘Cut off one head and two more shall take it’s place,’_ is the organization’s motto.

Steve knows he’s not going to stop until all of Hydra is dead. It doesn’t matter how many soldiers they gather—every monster has it’s weak point.

The sound of a crow cawing breaks them out of the trance they had fallen into. Steve turns his gaze away first and goes back to picking the lock, grinning when it finally opens. He rises from the ground and brushes the dirt from his knees before opening the door and stepping out of the way.

“Gentleman, your humble abode,” the blond says, motioning to the door with an exaggerated wave of his arm.

“You think you’re so cute,” Sam says with an eye roll grabbing his duffel off the ground and walking past the Captain.

“I am cute—what rock have you been living under,” Steve returns which earns him a snort. The bond turns to Bucky and notices the cautious look the other man is giving him. “Do you want to come inside?”

“Is this a trap?” the brunet asks after a few moments of silence.

“Would I bring you all the out here if it was?”

“Yes.”

“Oh . . .”

Bucky walks towards Steve pausing when he’s directly in front of the man, his eyes roaming over the blond’s face. Steve feels his breath catch in his throat at having Bucky so close—close enough to touch even though he would never do anything without the other man’s permission. He wants to make Bucky as comfortable as possible and doesn’t want to be the cause of his best friend running again.

The brunet continues look at Steve’s face. “No,” he says wearing an expression that Steve can’t identify. “You wouldn’t trap me – would you?”

“No, I would never hurt you,” the blond says words automatically falling from his lips before he could think of something better or change the subject.

“Even if I killed everyone you ever cared for?” Bucky questions immediately after Steve finishes speaking. “You wouldn’t stop me?”

Steve licks his lips fighting back a groan when he sees Bucky’s eyes flicker to his mouth. “Even then.”

Bucky tilts his head to the side in a curious manner before taking a step back and walking inside the cabin.

Steve finally lets out the breath he’s been holding as he stands frozen in the doorway, wondering why he just admitted how much power Bucky has over him particularly with his decision making.

*

“I’m claiming this room as my own and no one can stop me.”

Bucky darts in front of Sam and enters the room he proclaimed before shutting the door in his face and it takes everything Steve has not to laugh at Sam’s offended expression.

Sam frowns. “Why you gotta be like that?”

“He used to do this all time. Be a dick on purpose just to get a rise—it’s a game to him.”

“Oh? So, you wanna play a game, huh? Well, I accept the challenge that you have proposed,” Sam says with a nod, tightening his grip on his duffel and walking into the room across the hall.

Steve shakes his head and knocks on Bucky’s door. The other man cracks it open and Steve is pleased to see a quirk of a smile on his lips like he’s sharing a private joke with himself.

“The place only has one bathroom. I think Sam is going to nap and I want to start settling in since this will be our home for a while so you can clean up first.”

“I don’t have any clothes,” Bucky says while furrowing his brow after a moment of silence.

“You can borrow my clothes for the time being, if that’s okay.”

Bucky runs his eyes up and down Steve’s body and the Captain wonders if he realizes he’s doing that. “It’ll do.”

*

They have dinner together, thankful for that fact that Fury has a collection of non-perishable canned items. Sam whips up a meal involving several cans of ravioli, Spaghetti-O’s, and tomato soup. It all sounds disgusting especially since Sam made it all in one pot but none of them seemed to care and they can always go out and get more food once they’re positive that no one is watching them from the surrounding areas.

Steve doesn’t like the fact that he has to prompt Bucky to eat. The brunet looks at the bowl in front of him curiously as if he’s surprised that he’s being fed _actual_ food. From what Steve read in his file, Hydra mainly had him on a diet of vitamin supplements and water—sometimes giving him the bare minimum of nutrients. Steve’s left hand clenches into a fist as he tries to get control of the anger surging through him. Hydra won’t get away with this—he’ll make them pay. While Steve is making this vow to himself, Bucky is slowly dipping his spoon into his bowl and taking a hesitant bite.

*

Bucky doesn’t finish his dinner (not that Steve expected he would—at least he ate something though) and dumps what he didn’t eat in to Steve’s bowl while the latter was watching him with a curious glance. The brunet used to do that all time, sneaking his portions onto Steve’s plate when the other wasn’t looking so he would have more to eat. 

Steve watches Bucky leave the kitchen with a heavy heart. He avoids Sam’s gaze in favor of staring at his bowl for a moment before picking up his fork and polishing off the rest of his meal.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listening to: Watch Dogs Gameplay (For the Future of Blume and For the Portfolio)

“Please tell me you’ve see The Matrix.”

“Nope.”

“Bad Boys?”

“Nope.”

“White Chicks?”

“Nope.”

“Well, what have you watched?”

“Pinocchio.”

Sam sighs and throws his hands into the air. “Of course you started with Disney. Man, why didn’t I think of that sooner.”

“Disney?” Bucky asks curiously. He’s sitting on the couch next to Steve while Sam had claimed the lone chair he dubbed “Papa Fury’s Seat” for himself. The brunet furrows his brow. “They made more movies?”

Steve smiles and nods his head happily. “Yeah, tons. They’re still making movies today.”

Bucky’s eyes widen comically. “No way. I remember we went to the theater and people thought it was going to be nothing special but man was it something.”

The blond smiles, glad that Bucky remembers something else from their past. Going to the theater to see the premiere of “Snow White and the Seven Dwarves” was one of Steve’s fondest memories mainly because there was no double date. It was just him and Bucky like it’d always been.

“Alright, well let’s rewatch Pinocchio and see what else we can find,” Sam says, grabbing the remote and flipping through the movie options. “Man, how in the hell is Fury able to get Satellite cable in this cabin?”

*

After finishing Bambi, Sam decides to head to bed.

“Why? Are you afraid you’re going to cry if we watch any more Disney movies?” Steve teases.

“Don’t even start with me, Rogers, I saw you get teary eyed when Bambi’s mother died,” Sam retorts with a mischievous grin on his face. He rises from the chair and stretches before turning to the other men. “Are you two coming?”

“Probably should, it’s been a long day,” Steve says before looking over at Bucky. “You coming?”

Bucky flinches before covering up the motion turning to Steve with an unidentifiable expression. He looks over the blond’s features for a moment before nodding. “Okay.”

The Captain nods and rises from the couch, watching as Bucky does the same before the pair follow Sam upstairs. Steve says goodnight to Bucky and Sam before walking into the room next door to Bucky’s, shutting the door behind him.

The room is small and simple with a large wooden dresser on one wall next to the closet, a large window with a couch sitting in front of it, a nightstand with a lamp on top resting near the couch, and a bed pressed against the furthest wall.

Steve walks over to his suitcase, which is sitting empty and open on his bed. He furrows his brow as he moves his suitcase to the floor wondering where the rest of his clothes are. Steve walks over to the dresser and opens each of the drawers finding all of his clothes (minus a few shirts and pants) tucked away exactly how he likes it. He leans against the dresser as a smile crosses his face. Bucky must have done this when he came in here looking for clothes and Steve briefly wonders if he was aware that he was doing this. The Captain shakes his head, smile still on his face as he changes into his pajamas and climbs into bed.

*

Steve jolts awake, his skin crawling and body tensing as he feels eyes on the back of his neck. He slowly rolls over and nearly sighs with relief when he realizes that it’s just Bucky in the room with him and Steve can hear his inner Natasha scolding him for being so careless. Bucky is sitting in the chair on the other side of the room, feet tucked under his body eyes roaming over Steve’s half covered form. He can’t determine the other man’s expression from here so he’s not entirely sure if this is Bucky sitting in the room with him or Winter Soldier ready to strike and complete his mission.

The blond moves to lean on his elbow, watching carefully as Bucky tenses his muscles before forcing himself to relax. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes—no—I don’t know,” Bucky responds sounding confused. Steve can imagine his friend has his brow furrowed in thought.

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t think I—” Bucky cuts himself off. “I knew you.”

Steve nods, unsure of whether Bucky is able to see the motion. “Yeah you did.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything in response.

The blond lets the silence continue for a few moments before saying, “Did you have nightmare?”

Bucky shifts his position. “Yeah,” he says now sounding far off and distant.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” the other man says quickly.

“Okay,” Steve says, scooting closer to the wall and leaving room for Bucky in case he wants to join. Bucky tenses again, in what the blond thinks is hesitation before slowly uncurling his legs from under him and moving to the bed. Steve lifts the covers and Bucky slides underneath of them, taking the edge of the comforter from Steve and pulling it over his body.

The blond lays his head back on the pillow facing Bucky, watching as the other man scans his face blue-grey eyes looking into his with a curious expression.

After a few moments, Bucky sighs and relaxes against the bed, still looking into Steve’s eyes. “This feels familiar. Have we done this before?”

Steve nods his head. “Yeah, we used to lie like this all time.” Before the war, they would lay like this for sleepovers usually on the couch cushions. During the war, they would lay like this when the other had a nightmare—usually Bucky—and needed to be comforted by knowing the other was close.

Bucky nods his understanding and closes his eyes. Steve follows his example and quickly falls asleep.

*

Sunlight filters through the window, beams falling over Steve’s face. The blond opens his eyes, squinting as the brightness. After a few moments his eyes adjusts before smiling at the sight in front of him. Bucky is still lying next to him, curled in on himself so close that Steve can feel the heat radiating off the others body _(Bucky was always like a furnace—welcomed in winter but loathed in the summer)_. The brunet’s breathing is steady, face relaxed and calm. At some point during the night, Bucky must have shifted for his long nearly shoulder length hair is falling into his eyes.

Steve gently raises his hand to Bucky’s cheek intending to move his hair from his face when the other man’s eyes snap open, his body tensing and eyes going wide with panic. He immediately scrambles backwards and falls off the bed with the covers tangled around his legs before Steve could warn him. The blond quickly moves to the edge of the bed, watching as Bucky sits on the floor staring at the blanket as if he’s confused on how it is wrapped around his limbs.

“Bucky—”

“Where am I?” the other man demands with looking up from the blanket.

“You’re at a safe house in Sterling Forest. The only other occupants are myself and a man named Sam Wilson.”

“Who are you?”

“Steve Rogers—your best friend.”

“And?”

Steve furrows his brow, not knowing what to make of that question. “And?”

Bucky rolls his eyes but doesn’t look up. “Please, you mean to tell me that we were just friends when you look like that.”

The blond bites down on his bottom lip, wondering briefly if Bucky lied about how much he remembers. Steve wants to call him out on it, but instead finds himself shrugging. “Didn’t always look like this.”

Bucky finally glances up at Steve, a curious and disbelieving expression on his face. He opens his mouth as if to speak but instead furrows his brow and sniffs the air. “Do you smell that?”

The blond follows his example. “I think Sam is cooking breakfast.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “He cooks? Is he any good?”

Steve shrugs. He and Sam never really had the opportunity to sit down for a proper meal since they were usually on the move. They mainly lived off fast food and ramen noodles. “Your guess is as good as mine. You want to go find out?”

Bucky lets his eyes roam over Steve’s face before letting a small smile cross his features. “Yeah, let’s go.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: violence

“So, Natasha called earlier,” Sam says in greeting as soon as Steve and Bucky enter the kitchen. “She just gave me the all clear to go into Warwick for some groceries. I have no idea how she knows we’re here.”

“You’re surprised,” Steve says with a raised eyebrow as he sits down in one of the kitchen chairs. “She’s either communicating with Fury, who probably knows we’re here by now or she’s a lot closer than we think.”

Bucky slides into the seat next to Steve and starts shoveling food into his mouth when Sam places a plate in front of him. Sam grins to himself and goes back to the stove to make plates for himself and Steve.

“That’s true,” Sam adds coming back to the table and handing Steve his plate before taking the empty seat on Steve’s right. “Anyway, I will be going into town to get us some real food while you do some cleaning. This place is a pigsty and since Fury won’t do anything about it, that means that you’re gonna have too.”

“You’re not?” Steve asks with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I’m not a super soldier and I have errands to run,” Sam says with a cheeky grin. “Besides, you can get your buddy to help.”

*

“Are you going to help me at all?” Steve says setting down the axe in his hands and turning to look at his friend.

After breakfast, Sam took the car and went to the grocery store while Steve did some tidying around the house and in the shed with no help from Bucky. Currently, they’re both outside with Steve chopping firewood for the living room’s fireplace while Bucky lounges in a chair and reads a magazine. This scenario used to happen a lot when they were younger: Steve would be moving around the house, cleaning the kitchen, bathroom, and living room while Bucky napped on the sofa. Steve didn’t mind doing the cleaning since Bucky worked most of the time, but some help reaching some of the higher places would have been appreciated.

Bucky looks up from his magazine and gives Steve a once over, eyes lingering on the latter’s bare chest (Steve has to ditch his shirt halfway through because he started sweating) before looking at his face and shrugging. “You’re doing fine,” he says before turning back to his magazine.

Steve rolls his eyes before he turns his back to his friend in an attempt to cover his fallen expression because that is such a Bucky thing to say and Steve isn’t sure if the other man is aware he’s even doing it.

Twenty minutes later, the sound of an engine breaks through the silence of the forest and Bucky is immediately on his feet, magazine abandoned and dual blades in his hands while he scans the area looking ready to fight at any moment. The vehicle parks before the door opens and someone steps out.

“I come bearing decadence,” Sam greets. “Well some, considering the fact that two-thirds is still in the car.”

Steve sags in relief. He sets the axe back on the ground and nods to Bucky before wiping his hands on his pants and going into the kitchen where Sam is already inside and setting down several bags of groceries on the counter top. “You see all this shit? Combined with the two thirds still in the car it only cost me sixty-three dollars! Sixty-three! The woman in front of me had coupons and was oh so willing to share.”

Steve shakes his head and starts unloading the bags, sparing a quick glance outside and noticing Bucky sitting back in his chair, feet propped up and magazine in his hands. Sam moves around the kitchen and puts away this third of the groceries in the fridge. Steve reaches into one of the bags and notices that it’s filled with various types of meat: standard beef, pork chops, chicken and-- is that steak?

“You know I found a grill in the shed earlier when I was cleaning,” Steve points out. “If we wipe it down . . .”

“We could have a barbeque, oh shit yes. I like your thinking.”

“And my thinking likes you back.”

Sam laughs.

*

Bucky sleeps in Steve’s room again that night, lying curled into himself with his front facing the door. Steve is honestly surprised that Bucky decided to bare his back to him, but he already checked around the bed for weapons and it was obvious he didn’t want to face his back to the door so Steve was the better option.

The Captain is pleased that today has gone so well especially the evening when they were all together. Dinner was nice. They grilled two thirds of the meat Sam had brought home with Steve and Bucky eating most of it in one sitting. Sam even showed Bucky how to make hamburgers from scratch using his mother's recipe after the latter kept asking questions about the process.

Steve smiles slightly at the memory. Bucky appeared relaxed for the entire evening and Steve is hoping that means he’s starting to warm up to the idea of being around the two of them constantly and for long periods. He knows fully well that it will take some time before Bucky regains his memories completely and Steve wants to makes sure he’s as comfortable as possible. He shifts his position and lays down facing Bucky’s back. Steve closes his eyes and quickly falls asleep, listening to the sounds of Bucky breathing.

*

Hours later, Steve is jerked awake by the sound of someone screaming. His eyes fly open and he’s immediately greeted with Bucky thrashing around, hands tangled and tugging on his hair, mouth open wide while he continues to wail. Steve’s heart falls at the sight, wishing there was something he could do to get rid of his friend’s pain. He shouldn’t have to suffer through any nightmares at all, but the least Steve can do is wake him up and offer a listening ear if that’s what Bucky needs.

“Bucky. Bucky, hey, wake up,” Steve calls gently. When he moves to place a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, his eyes snap open as his hands fly to Steve’s arm, catching his bicep in a bruising grip before physically throwing him from the bed. Steve crashes into the wall next to his dresser and falls to the floor in a heap.

Steve rises to his feet only to immediately dodge the punch Bucky throws at him. Bucky’s metal fist slams through the wall, leaving a large hole next to the dent Steve made with his body. The Captain moves to the other side of the room while Bucky extracts his fist from the wall, trying to think of the best way to proceed. He doesn’t want to hurt Bucky and killing him is not an option. Steve starts chewing on his bottom lip when he hears the sound of a door opening and quiet footsteps in the hall.

“Steve?” Sam says cautiously, worry embedded into his tone.

“Sam, stay away,” Steve shouts right as Bucky frees his hand and launches at Steve, kneeing him the gut before following with a fist to the face, which causes Steve to tumble to the ground.

The Captain scrambles to his feet before going on the defensive as Bucky unleashes a quick barrage of punches and kicks. Steve manages to avoid Bucky’s left fist but fails to dodge the uppercut from his right. Before he can recover, Bucky kicks him against the wall between the nightstand and the couch, coming into Steve’s space and wrapping his metal hand around the Captain’s throat.

Steve lets out a choked gasp, hands reaching to grip Bucky’s palm and wrist in an attempt to pry the other man off. “Bucky . . . it’s me . . . it’s Steve . . . we’re friends.”

“Who the hell is Bucky?” is the answers and if Steve wasn’t being strangled, he would feel like he was with that statement.

“You . . . you’re Bucky—” Steve’s vision is starting to go black around the edges and he knows he’s going to pass out soon. He opens his mouth to speak again but all that comes out a low wheezing sound.

Suddenly, the pressure is gone and Steve can breathe again. He gasps and chokes for breath as Bucky blinks at him, looking both confused and appalled. Steve tries reaching out for him, but Bucky quickly flees to the room next door, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click.

Steve slides to the ground, still struggling for breath. He hears cautious footsteps entering the room before Sam is kneeling in front of him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder and checking him for injuries. He can already feel bruises blossoming on his face, arms, and ribs, but he doesn’t think that anything is broken.

“Are you alright?”

“Never been better,” Steve responds. Despite the fact that he still sounds hoarse, his comment causes the corner of Sam’s lip to quirk upwards. He can see Sam’s mouth moving again and he thinks that the other man is speaking , but Steve can’t register the words. All he can think about is Bucky.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: past trauma, breif mention of unreality, brainwashing, PTSD

“Alright, tell me what happened.”

Steve relays everything that happened prior to Sam’s arrival in his room over coffee. The pair had come downstairs after Sam checked him for injuries (nothing’s broken; he has bruises on his face and ribs that are already beginning to heal). Sam listens patiently while Steve describes the whole ordeal, nodding his head at the right moments and not interrupting.

When Steve finishes speaking, Sam takes a sip of his coffee. “My guess is: he was unable to tell the difference between the present and the past. I’ve had a few veterans down at the V.A. tell me they’ve done something similar—holding knives and guns to their spouses and friends because they thought they were enemy soldiers.”

“So, you’re saying he was relying on instincts?”

Sam nods his head and takes another sip of his drink. “When you woke him up, he immediately threw you off which leads me to believe that he was still trapped in his nightmare and thought you were working for Hydra.”

Steve’s face falls and Sam places a comforting hand over his. “Sometimes, people have a hard time adjusting to civilian life once they’ve been on the battlefield; you and I both know that well. In Bucky’s case, he’s been fighting a battle for over seventy years, including his time in World War Two. It’s going to take him time to realize that he’s not on the battlefield anymore.”

“What do we do when he realizes that?”

“We begin the process of reintegrating and reintroducing him into society as it is today. This process can take years.”

Steve nods his head. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes, but I’ll need help.”

Sam smiles and pats Steve’s hand before wrapping it back around his mug. “I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

The corner of Steve's lip quirks upward at Sam’s words. He takes a sip of his own drink, glad that he has someone like him on his side. “What should we do in the meantime?”

“Give him a few hours alone to process what happened. After that, we let him know that he’s safe and that we’re here if he needs to talk. By doing that, we’re letting him choose what he wants to do.”

Steve frowns slightly at the thought of leaving Bucky alone even for a few hours, but he knows that Sam is right. Bucky’s been stripped of his free will for the past seventy years and it’s important that he is allowed to make is own decisions about anything and everything.

He must look extremely troubled because Sam gives him a sympathetic smile. “He’s going to be okay. He just needs time.”

“I know,” Steve says with a sigh. “But I can’t help it. I’m always worried about him.”

*

Steve finds himself standing outside of Bucky’s door roughly three hours after talking with Sam about last night. He takes a breath, feeling nervous for some reason before knocking on the door. He hears no movement from the inside despite the fact he knows Bucky is in there.

“Buck,” he says in a lowered tone that’s not quite a whisper, but not his normal volume either. “I just wanted to let you know that if you need us, Sam and I are about to start a movie marathon and that you’re welcome to join us whenever you want.”

Bucky doesn’t respond and Steve wasn’t expecting him to. He opens his mouth, wanting to say more— _so_ much more—but instead, leaves it at that and goes back downstairs.

*

Steve sits in the living room alone that evening. Sam went to sleep a few hours earlier after reminding him to get some rest. He sighs to himself while the television drones on in the background. After a few moments of staring into nothing, he’s pulled from his thoughts by the sound of quiet footsteps, listening to them descend the staircase before Bucky’s form comes into view.

He’s still wearing the clothes from a few days ago, looking disheveled and exhausted, dark circles worsening underneath his eyes. Bucky is hunched in on himself, which is a far cry from his usual confident stance. He shuffles his feet and glances down at them before his eyes roam across Steve’s face, opening his mouth before shutting it again. Steve waits patiently while Bucky gathers his thoughts, taking extra care not to move in case he scares the man off.

“I’m sorry. I, uh, didn’t mean to try to kill you last night,” Bucky says, speaking in a quiet tone. Before Steve can answer, he says, “That’s what people do right?

Steve fights the urge to sigh in relief. “Yes; when someone knows they’ve done something wrong that offends or hurts someone, they apologize, just like you did.”

Bucky nods his understanding.

“I accept by the way,” Steve adds quickly. He wants to tell Bucky that he doesn’t really mind it because he was honestly expecting something like this to happen eventually and that it’s not Bucky’s fault he has nightmares, but Steve knows that won’t go over well and he doesn’t want Bucky to attack him. Again.

Bucky nods still standing in the doorway almost as if he’s afraid to come any closer. Steve lifts his arm off the couch, inviting Bucky to sit down. He’s pleasantly surprised when Bucky crosses the length of the room after a moment of hesitation and curls against Steve’s side, not quite touching, but close enough that Steve can feel the heat radiating off his body. Steve shifts and settles his arm against the back out the couch. He lets a smile cross his face when Bucky moves and rests his head against the crook of Steve’s arm.

*

Steve wakes up the following morning with the sunlight streaming in his face and listening to the sounds of Sam moving around in the kitchen. He looks to his left and smiles. Bucky is fast asleep tightly pressed against Steve’s side, head resting on his shoulder and flesh fingers curled loosely into the hem of Steve’s shirt. He looks years younger like this and if Steve ignores the longer hair and metal arm, it’s almost as if they’re back during the war with Bucky falling asleep on him while sitting at the campfire and the Commandos pointedly not saying anything.

He shifts so he can curl his arm around Bucky when he wakes up, immediately moving away from Steve, looking a little embarrassed and confused and that’s when Steve realizes that he didn’t have a signal nightmare that night. Smiling to himself, Steve moves his arm from the back of the couch and places it by his side. “Good morning.”

Bucky grunts in response, raising his right hand to rub against eyes before trying to tame his hair, which is sticking up everywhere. He lifts his nose into the air and sniffs before climbing off the couch and disappearing into the kitchen without a word.

Steve rises to his feet and stretches, listening to the sound of his bones popping. He sighs content before wandering into the kitchen, nodding to both Sam and Bucky, who are sitting at the table eating. Steve walks over to the counter and grabs a paper plate. He moves over to the stove and piles his dish with various breakfast food including eggs, pancakes, bacon and an assortment of fruits. Sam really outdid himself today.

He brings his plate over to the table and settles down in the seat from across his two friends. Bucky meets his eye and offers him a small smile. Steve smiles back and gently nudges Bucky’s foot with his. Bucky looks surprised at the notion but bumps his foot against Steve’s with a playful look in his eyes before returning to his meal. Steve looks between his two friends, feeling relaxed and content. Moments like this give Steve hope that that they’ll be able to make it through this okay.

Of course, that’s the exact moment when everything goes to shit.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: violence

Sam is in the middle of telling Bucky about the Dodgers moving California, which the latter doesn’t look happy about, when the first explosions ring out. The three quickly abandon their meals and dive under the dining table, weapons already in hand. Sam cocks his gun and Bucky twirls the kitchen knives that he swiped from the table. Steve checks his ammo on his pistol that he started carrying around again after D.C. While he is fine with having the gun as backup, he feels horribly naked without his shield, which is upstairs.

Steve looks at Sam and Bucky, who are both wearing troubled yet hardened expressions. He pays careful attention to Bucky, noting that while his eyes are glazed over and far off, he isn’t showing any signs that he’s reverted back to Winter Soldier. Steve takes a breath he didn’t realize he was holding before speaking, making sure to keep his voice lowered. “I’m going to take a look outside. Both of you stay here. Sam—”

“Get yourself and Bucky out if needed, I know,” Sam says. This is something they’ve discussed before—keeping Sam and Bucky out of danger is Steve’s top priority and if he needs to be left behind for that to happen then so be it.

Steve nods and turns to leave their makeshift cover when he feels pressure on his shirtsleeve. He looks back and sees Bucky staring at him with an unidentifiable expression on his face. He opens his mouth to speak before closing it and shaking his head. He releases Steve’s shirt and gives him a small smile. The corner of Steve’s mouth quirks upward before he slides out from underneath of the table.

The Captain slowly makes his way from the kitchen to the living room, keeping low with his gun in hand and actively trying not to flinch at the explosions, which haven’t ceased. When he reaches the window next to the front door, he presses himself against the wall and peels away the edge of the thin curtain before looking outside and holding back a gasp at what he sees.

It looks like the Blitz. Fighter jets are flying overhead in a formation, speeding past their cabin and continuously bombing the area on the opposite side of the lake. Smoke rises into the air and darkens the sky as the surrounding trees catch fire—a fire that is spreading quickly. It hasn’t reached their side of the lake yet, but if they don’t leave soon, Steve knows they won’t make it out of this forest alive.

Steve lets the curtain fall and goes back into the kitchen, crouching next to the table and looking at his two friends. “Someone’s dropping bombs on the other side of the lake. We need to go now.”

“Hydra?” Sam asks with renewed urgency.

“No idea, but I wouldn’t be surprised,” Steve says. He glances over at Bucky, who has a worried crease in between his brow. The Captain places his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and waits until he looks at him. “I won’t let them get you. Never again.”

Bucky gulps. “I know.”

Sam holsters his gun and climbs out from under the table. “Most of the nonperishable foods are still in the car. I left them in there in case something like this happened. Grab what you need and do it fast. We leave in three minutes,” he announces before leaving the kitchen and heading upstairs.

Steve rises into a standing position and waits until Bucky crawls out from under the table. He goes upstairs with Bucky following behind him, dropping the latter in his room. Steve rushes between the bathroom and his bedroom, gathering anything and everything he could possibly need before shoving the items into his suitcase without finesse.

“Bucky come here,” he says when he notices him walk past Steve’s room with his backpack. When Bucky returns to stand in the doorway, Steve tosses his red sweatshirt at him. “Put that on. If that really is Hydra out there, I don’t want them to glimpse your arm reflecting the sunlight.”

Bucky sets down his pack and pulls on the sweatshirt. When the clothing item is in place, he swings his backpack back over his shoulders and heads downstairs without a word.

Steve finishes packing, zipping up his suitcase and grabbing his shield before heading outside to where Sam is arranging his things in the backseat. Bucky opens the backdoor, sliding into the seat behind the driver’s, keeping his bag close to his body. Sam moves so Steve can put his suitcase and his shield in the back before hopping into the passenger’s seat.

Sam climbs into the driver’s seat before starting the car and peeling away from the cabin. Steve look into the side mirror and watches as the flames finally start to flicker over the area they just vacated.

*

Steve pulls out his phone and stares at it for a moment, debating on whether or not he should call Fury. He bites down on his bottom lip and sighs, lowering his phone and resting it against his thigh before turning his gaze to the trees flying by his window. Sam stuck to the dirt roads until they breeched Sterling Forest. Once that happened, Sam got on the highway, passing by Warwick and various other small towns, pulling them deeper into upstate New York. He eventually got off the highway and is currently driving through another forest, trying to mix up their route in the event that someone is following them (He didn't notice anyone but one cannot be too careful when Hydra is involved).

“Steve?”

He is immediately pulled from his thoughts and has to clamp down on his excitement because that it the first time Bucky has called him by his name. Steve twists in his seat to face Bucky, who is curled up in his seat, resting his covered left arm against the windowsill, hood drawn over his head that doesn’t mask the thoughtful expression on his face. When Bucky meets his eyes, Steve raises an eyebrow silently prompting him to continue.

“I think I remember something about the war,” Bucky says after a minute of silence.

Steve gives him an encouraging nod.

Bucky is silent for a few moments before he speaks. “We were with the Commandos. We were in the woods, looking for a place to camp. We were joking and laughing—Dum Dum was singing a folk song and Gabe rolled his eyes before swiping his flask and passing it around. I looked over at you and . . .” he pauses. “You were looking at me like . . . like I was everything you could have ever wanted and I was happy. So happy.”

Steve feels his chest clench as he remembers Bucky catching him and asking what he was starting at _(“You,” he had said without missing a beat. He knew it was cheesy, but Bucky’s responding smile made up for it_ ). He briefly wonders if he remembered what happened after that _(The Commandos went off the set up camp and Bucky pulled him behind a tree and kissed him when he was sure no one was looking. They couldn’t do that as often as they would have liked, but it made every time even more special_ ). Steve wants to ask if he does, but he also doesn’t want to force him into remembering a relationship he might not be ready for. Bucky doesn't need a boyfriend-- he needs friends and allies. 

“You were,” Steve says, still aware of Sam’s presence next to him. “You still are.”

Bucky’s eyes scan Steve’s face before he smiles. It’s closed mouthed, but it reaches his eyes and lights up his whole face. Steve’s stomach does flips at seeing the familiar expression on his face and returns it with one of his own.

*

“What the hell do you mean that my safe house is destroyed?”

Steve winces at the anger in Fury’s tone. “In my defense, I did say probably.”

“Probably, my ass! How the hell did you even get in? Wait, let me guess; you had your ex-assassin friend break in.”

“No, sir, I did,” Steve says.

Fury is silent for a long moment and Steve wonders if it’s possible for him to hang up the phone without Fury tracking him down and murdering him in cold blood.

*

“How mad was he?” Sam asks. They stopped in a clearing to stretch their legs, staying near the car in case they need to leave in a hurry. 

“Sam, you don’t want to know,” he says while keeping a close eye on Bucky who is wandering into the woods. Since he’s wearing Steve’s bright red sweatshirt it’s easy to see him, but he can’t shake the fear that Bucky might run off once he and Sam aren’t looking.

Sam falls silent for a minute. “He’s not going to hook us up without any more safe houses, is he?”

“Nope.”

The two fall silent again. Steve frowns and rubs his right ear. “Is it normal to not hear anything out of your ear after a phone call?”

“Well considering you were on the phone with Fury yelling at you for two hours, I’d say that’s about normal.”

Bucky comes out of the woods and tilts his head to the side, watching as Steve rubs his wounded ear. “You should put some ice on that,” he deadpans to which Sam snorts.

Steve resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Thanks,” he says sarcastically, fighting the urge to grin when Bucky smiles at him. 

*

“Hey, Natasha, do you know of any safe houses not being used at this current moment?”

Natasha sighs heavily over the phone. “I can’t leave you alone for one minute, can I?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“I make no promises, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“That’s all I ask. Thank you.”

“No problem—just try not to get this one blown up.”

Steve pulls the phone away from his ear and frowns at it before bringing it back to his face. “How did you . . . ?

Natasha hangs up before Steve can finish his question.


	7. Chapter 7

“Hey, wake up, asshole. It’s your watch.”

Steve opens his eyes, finding Sam kneeling over him and looking exhausted. The Captain yawns and sits up, stretching his limbs before nodding to his friend. “I’m up—thanks man.”

Sam grunts sleepily in response. He walks over to the tent he set up before nightfall and crawls inside, zipping up the flap and closing himself off from the world.

Steve rubs his eyes and yawns again, shifting his position so he’s leaning with his back pressed against the driver’s side door he fell asleep in front of and stares into the darkness of the night. Since Hydra is after them and they have no way of knowing when they’re enemy could appear again, they decided to stop in a clearing for the night and sleep in shifts. Sam had the first watch and Steve has the second. Technically, Bucky has the third, but Steve is going to take his shift. Bucky is still in the early stages in recovery and he needs as much sleep as he possibly can, especially since he’s having nightmares and/or fitful sleep five nights a week.

The Captain sighs heavily. He knows the recovery process is long and hard, but he wishes he knew a way to ease Bucky’s pain. He hates feeling helpless when the people he loves are suffering and there’s nothing he can do. He sighs again. At least Bucky is starting to remember more about their past—he even addressed Steve by his name, which he is hoping is a sign that Bucky is starting to become more comfortable with him and Sam. Hell, Bucky even agreed to let the two of them take the first watches while _he_ sleeps. That thought brings a smile to Steve’s face. If that’s not a sign of the beginnings of trust, then Steve doesn’t know what is.

He shifts his position to rest more comfortably against the car, when the vehicle starts shaking. Confused, Steve moves away from the car and watches it for a few minutes before something clicks in his mind. Bucky claimed the car as his own after Sam expressed interest in it, which brought a smile to both his and Steve’s faces about the game Bucky started playing. Though, Steve thinks Sam suggested it on purpose so Bucky would have a better chance at getting some rest (even though all three of them are soldiers and the ground would suffice). It takes him another minute before he realizes that Bucky might be having a nightmare—that’s the only explanation for the vehicle moving like it is.

With that thought in mind, Steve opens the backdoor and slowly climbs in, hating the fact in order to fit inside he has to half hover over Bucky, who’s stretched out across the backseat, rolling from side to side and letting out stressed whimpers. Steve places his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and his eyes immediately fly open, looking wild and frightful.

“Who are you?” Bucky asks his voice laced with panic.

Steve’s heart breaks and he mentally prepares himself in case Bucky lashes out. He opens his mouth to speak but Bucky cuts him off.

“Wait—you’re Steve . . . right?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, unable to keep the smile off his face. “I’m Steve.”

“Steve,” Buck repeats slowly, which is a signal that means he’s starting to calm down and remember where he is. After a few moments of silence, a small smile crosses his face and Steve counts this as a victory.

“What happened?” Bucky asks as a look of confusion passes over his features.

“You were having a nightmare,” Steve explains gently, running his hand along the length of Bucky’s right arm. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Bucky shakes his head and Steve immediately drops the subject. The past few times Steve has asked if he wanted to talk, Bucky shuts down all conversation attempts. Steve’s not going to force him—Bucky will come to him when he’s ready to talk.

“Okay; go ahead and try to get some more sleep,” Steve says. He climbs out of the car as Bucky curls in on himself again and yawns. Steve quietly shuts the door and spares a glance a tent, surprised that Sam didn’t wake up. Bucky sounded loud to Steve, but he was sitting against the car wit enhanced hearing. Steve carefully moves into the same position he was before, resting the back of his head against the cool metal of the car door and keeping his eyes peeled for any movements in the wilderness.

*

Thirty minutes later, the backdoor opens and Bucky slides out looked rumpled, his clothes wrinkled and hair sticking up in every direction. He’s wearing a frustrated pout on his face and it takes everything for Steve not to ruffle his hair and call him adorable. Bucky closes the back door and crawls over to Steve. He curls himself against Steve’s side, wrapping his arms around his waist, and throwing his legs over Steve’s lap. Bucky yawns and fits his head in the crook of Steve’s neck before immediately passing out.

Steve smiles fondly and slips his arms around Bucky, turning his gaze back to the woods. Bucky doesn’t have another nightmare that night.

*

By Steve’s calculations, it’s around nine in the morning when the tent starts shifting. Steve turns his head, watching as Sam unzips the flap and climbs to his feet with a grumble and stretching his limbs. He yawns and scratches his stomach before meeting Steve’s gaze. Sam’s sleep muddled eyes shift between Bucky and Steve for a moment before a grin crawls over his face.

Steve raises an eyebrow, challenging him to say something while instinctively curling his arms tighter around Bucky, who shifts closer.

Sam only grins wider before turning and wandering into the woods, quietly whistling a tune that Steve is unfamiliar with (he’ll later discover that the song is “You and I (Nobody in the World) by John Legend).

*

“Sam, I just got a text from Nat. It looks like coordinates,” Steve says, looking up from his phone.

Sam pauses from packing up his tent and walks over to his bag, pulling out his GPS and tossing it to Steve. “Here, punch it in,” he says.

Steve catches the GPS one handed _(his left arm is still curled around Bucky, who hasn’t moved since he joined Steve in the middle of the night. Bucky is awake and has been for the past hour, quietly looking around at the woods and watching Steve mess with his phone)._ Steve boots up the device before punching the coordinates and smiling. “I think Natasha came through with us on the safe house. These coordinates are for the middle of nowhere Massachusetts.”

“Yeah, that’s my girl,” Sam says with a proud smile.

Steve doesn’t know how long the two of them have been together and the only reason found out because Natasha came to him and said if any harm came to Sam, she knew eighteen different ways to kill him with a pencil. Steve proceeded to ask Sam about it, who would only tell him if Steve confessed about his past romance with Bucky _(“I want the details, Rogers—all of them okay? I don’t want any of that sugarcoated shit,” Sam had said. When Steve didn’t spare any, Sam took his previous statement back with a hurried, “Spare some, spare some! Jesus, y’all were some nasty ass punks.”)_

“Well what are we waiting for? Let’s head out,” Steve gently moves Bucky's legs from his lap and uncurls his arm from around him, grabbing the GPS and his phone before standing when he feels pressure on his shirt. He looks down curiously and fights back a smile. Bucky’s metal fingers are curled into the hem of his shirt. He looks a little embarrassed and surprised by his actions, which makes it even harder for Steve not to grin.

The Captain sits back down and Bucky releases his shirt and blinks at him. Steve gives him a small smile. “Do you want me to sit with you?” he asks gently, listening to the sound of Sam opening the trunk and shoving his tent back inside with a grunt.

Bucky furrows his brow and Steve can see the gears of his mind working, waiting patiently for Bucky to speak. “Please?” he says after a few moments of thinking.

Steve nods his head and smiles wider. “Of course,” he says, which causes Bucky to smile. He shifts and opens the backdoor, nudging Bucky into the car first.

Bucky crawls in and Steve follows, shutting the door behind him. Once Steve is settled in the seat behind the driver’s, Bucky immediately comes back to him, slotting himself against Steve’s side as if it’s the only place he ever wants to be. Steve wraps his arm around Bucky and holds him close, not missing Bucky’s contented sigh.

Sam slides into the car and Steve looks up, meeting his gaze in the rearview mirror. Sam is wearing a smile, seeming pleased that Bucky is so relaxed and calm right now especially with the imminent threat of Hydra looming over their heads. Sam’s smile turns into a grin before he breaks their eye contact, starting up the car and driving off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven’t already done so, you should watch the video for John Legend’s “You and I (Nobody in the World).” It’s not only incredible, but it’s so moving.


	8. Chapter 8

Twenty minutes into the drive, Bucky lifts his head from Steve’s chest and looks out the window, squinting at something in the distance. Steve follows his gaze and sees a log cabin through the trees, briefly wondering who could possibly be living all the way out here.

“Sam, there’s a cabin on your left,” Steve says.

“You think Abe Lincoln’s chilling in there?” Sam jokes once he spots the cabin.

Bucky furrows his brow. “Who?”

Sam pauses. “We’re gonna have to brush you up on some U.S. History once we get the chance.”

Bucky turns to look at Steve, who simply shrugs and starts running his hands through Bucky’s hair, noting how he melts against Steve’s side and closes his eyes in contentment. Steve imagines that if he could, Bucky would be purring.

“We’re getting closer to the cabin now,” Sam announces five minutes later. “What do you want to do about it?”

“Break in,” Bucky says, opening his eyes and shifting to look at the back of Sam’s head.

“I shouldn’t encourage this but. . .” Steve says trailing off and not missing Bucky’s brief smile from the corner of his eyes. “It will be nice to shower and get out of these clothes.”

Sam hums amused. “Who knew Captain America was a bad boy?” he teases. “You think once the press finds out, your action figure will be recalled while parents scream: _“that hooligan will not corrupt my child with his criminal lifestyle.””_

Steve laughs. “What’s with the voice?”

“That’s my concerned white mother voice,” Sam confirms before doing the voice again. _“Young man, I will not tolerate that behavior in my household. You are grounded, mister. Now, go upstairs and wait until your father gets home.”_

Steve laughs harder while Bucky smiles widely.

*

When Sam parks in front of the cabin, he and Steve immediately begin talking strategy on how they’re going to bust in. The pair are in the middle of discussing whether or not they should break a window when Bucky slides out of Steve’s arms and slips out of the car.

They watch Bucky as he walks over to the cabin and tries the front door, which opens after he turns the knob. He looks back at Steve and Sam with a lopsided grin while the other two stare at him with a mixture of surprise (Sam) and pride (Steve, though he does feel guilty for feeling that way).

Bucky enters the cabin. Steve and Sam follow him after exiting the car. Once he inspects the one-roomed structure, Steve determines that it must be some sort of hunter’s cabin. Steve walks over to Bucky (taking care to make noise since he’s approaching from behind) and gently places his hand on Bucky’s bicep, letting a brief smile cross his face when Bucky doesn’t flinch at his touch.

“Why don’t you go ahead and start cleaning up?” Steve suggests. “I’ll bring you some clothes and leave them on the counter.”

Bucky nods after a beat of silence. He darts into the bathroom located on the opposite side of the room next to the makeshift kitchen and shuts the door behind him while Steve goes back to the car to grab his and Sam’s bags.

*

Steve is in the middle of his shower when he hears Sam let out a high-pitched scream. He leaps from the tub and rushes to the door. Before he opens it, he hears Bucky deadpan, “It’s a grasshopper.”

“Man, you don’t understand; I don’t fuck with bugs that jump and/or fly _especially_ the ones that do both.”

Steve smiles to himself and shakes his head before realizing with embarrassment that he was about to rush out of the bathroom without a towel on.

*

Sam yelps in surprise. “Ah! I can’t believe you two used all of the hot water!"

“Oops,” Steve says without an ounce of regret.

*

“Hey Steve, what happened to all the pop tarts?”

“I didn’t eat them.”

Sam frowns and sets down the bag he was rummaging through before side eyeing the only other occupant in the room. “Barnes . . .”

Bucky shrugs and tries to look innocent, but Steve can see the mischievous gleam in his eye.

*

“Rogers! You best hurry up outta that bathroom or we’re gonna leave without you!” Sam calls.

Steve washes his hands and leaves the bathroom, turning his gaze to Sam and Bucky who are waiting by the door. “Cut me some slack; I don’t decide when I have to shit.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Just be glad Hydra didn’t show up while you were doing that,” he jokes.

“Yeah, could you imagine? _‘Steve, hurry up we gotta go.’_ _‘In a minute, I have to wipe first.’_

Bucky snorts, surprising both himself and Steve while Sam laughs.

*

“Hey Sam, can we turn on the radio?” Steve asks about half an hour into their car ride. They’ve been silent thus far as they’ve been putting distance between themselves and the cabin with Sam focusing on driving and Bucky dozing against Steve’s shoulder.

“Sure,” Sam says before obliging Steve’s request.

_“To the left, to the left; everything you own is in a box to the left.”_

Steve laughs loudly, startling Bucky awake (who thankfully doesn’t attack him) while Sam yells in frustration and turns the radio off again.

“I am . . . never letting you . . . forget that,” Steve says in between laughs and ignores the glare that Sam fixes him through the rearview mirror.

*

“So, how do you suppose we’re gonna get in?” Sam asks. They’re standing together outside of the Massachusetts safe house three hours after leaving the hunter’s cabin.

Steve hums. He feels around his pockets for his lock picking kit before frowning. He must have accidentally forgotten it at Fury’s safe house in the rush to leave.

As if reading his mind (and Steve doesn’t doubt that he did), Bucky walks over to the front door and literally kicks it open. Steve watches with both eyebrows raised as Bucky wanders into the one level safe house and disappears down the hallway on his right.

Sam snorts loudly and Steve turns to look at him, noting the grin on his face. “Well, someone _clearly_ knows how to make an entrance?”

Steve laughs. “Yeah, he does.”

Picking up his bag and shield, Steve wanders into the house, passing through the living room before turning and walking down the hallway. There are four doors (two on either side) and three of which that are open. 

The Captain goes into the room across from the closed door. The room is small and sparsely furnished, only containing a twin bed, a dresser, and a rocking chair that is perched in the corner. Steve sets his bag and shield on the bed and takes this moment to stretch his sore muscles.

“Yo, I’m heating up some soup for din-din so I hope you’re hungry. Oh wait!” Sam calls before laughing.

Steve shakes his head at Sam’s ridiculousness. He leaves his quarters and knocks on the door of the room Bucky claimed for himself.

Bucky opens the door after a few minutes. He’s not wearing a shirt and his hiding a majority of his left arm behind the door and it takes more than Steve will ever admit to keep his eyes on Bucky’s face instead of roaming his body and trying to see all the ways he’s changed since Steve last saw him.

“Sam’s in the kitchen making dinner and it’s probably done by now. You want to come eat.”

Bucky shakes his head.

“Bucky . . .”

“I’m tired,” he says. “I want to sleep.”

Steve tries his hardest to keep his face looking calm and friendly instead of spreading into a wide grin because that’s the first time Bucky has declared aloud that he wants something. He nods his head, hopefully not too eager, in understanding. “Okay. I’ll be in the kitchen with Sam if you need either one of us. We’ll save some leftovers for you in case you get hungry in the middle of the night.”

Bucky nods and Steve turns to leave.

“Steve?”

The Captain turns around curiously after only taking a few steps, patiently waiting for Bucky to continue.

Bucky’s eyes scan Steve’s face for a few minutes before he shakes his head in a ‘never mind’ gesture and closes the door.

Steve lingers in the hallway, gazing at the closed door and wondering what Bucky could have wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song featured: “Irreplaceable” by Beyoncé.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally wrote more than I planned so I’m giving you guys two updates this time! I hope you guys enjoy! :)
> 
> Warning: mentions of death

“How is he?” Sam asks Steve once he enters the kitchen.

“He’s sleeping,” Steve says. He walks over to the stove, grabbing one of the paper bowls on the counter and filling it with the soup Sam heated up. Steve joins Sam at the table and sits in the chair across from him before digging in and moaning his approval.

Sam grins.

The pair eat in silence and Steve’s thoughts can’t help but drift to Bucky, though he’s always thinking about him—ever since they were kids it’s always been “Bucky this” and “Bucky that” and “hey, you wanna talk about my friend, Bucky? Boy, isn’t he swell!”

Steve sighs heavily and sets down his spoon, unable to taper down on his worry. He hopes Bucky is okay, especially since he went to bed without dinner.

The Captain bites back the urge to sigh again and glances upward, meeting Sam’s gaze. He looks concerned yet patient, not forcing Steve to speak but encouraging him to do so if he chooses. Steve doesn’t know how Sam is able to do that with one look, but he’s thankful all the same. Sam is too good for this world and why he decided to follow Steve on this spontaneous search to find Bucky _and_ keep him safe, he’ll never know.

“Sorry,” Steve says finally after a few moments of silence have passed. “I’m just—uh . . . just worried . . . about . . .” he sighs again. “In your professional opinion, how’s he doing?”

Sam sets down his spoon and pushes his bowl to the side before clasping his hands together on the tabletop. “He’s making fantastic progress so far. He’s showing signs that he’s on track to recovering his memory and that he’s learning to trust us considering he let the two of us take the first watches while _he_ slept. That fact that he is experiencing signs like these early on will help him tremendously in the future especially once he’s introduced to Natasha and your other Avenger friends.”

He pauses. “There is one thing that concerns me slightly—not a big thing though. I have noticed that when Bucky has a nightmare, he’ll seek you out and lay on you. Now, I’m not saying that’s a bad thing at all—Bucky finding any sort of comfort from his nightmares is wonderful, but we shouldn’t let him become too dependent on having you around all the time especially once we start reintegrating him and letting him do things on his own. Comfort is good, yes, but co-dependency is unhealthy especially considering what’s happened to Bucky for the past seventy years.”

Steve remains silent, soaking in Sam’s words, knowing that he has a good point. “I know. It’s always been like that for us, though. We’ve only had each other to rely on—we took care of each other and loved each other. Til the end of the line—that was our thing.” He lets a fond smile cross his face. “Once the threat of Hydra is gone and we’re able to stay in one location long enough to start the reintegration process, then I’ll back off for sure. Unless he wants me there and not to flatter myself but ninety eight percent of the time, he does,” Steve adds with a cheeky grin.

Sam laughs and opens his mouth to respond when a loud scream cuts off his words.

The Captain’s eyes widen and he immediately launches himself from the table and runs down the hallway, bursting into Bucky’s room and forgetting about the possibility that Bucky could have attacked him for entering his space with warning.

Steve rushes into the room and crouches by Bucky’s bedside, watching him thrash around with his hands clutched in his hair and mouth open while he continues to scream. He exchanges a look with Sam, who’s hovering by the doorway, before moving to place one knee on the bed and brace both of his hands on Bucky’s shoulders. He barely shakes him before Bucky’s eyes snap open.

“Steve,” he gasps. He moves to sit up on the bed, panting with his fists curled at his sides.

As soon as Steve’s shifts and settles properly next to Bucky, the latter’s hands are on him, running both warm and cold fingertips over Steve’s face, chest, and arms. Bucky’s expression is a mixture of relief, terror, and shame and Steve’s heart breaks as he wonders what could have possibly happened in order to cause that expression.

He must have spoken aloud because Bucky is looking up at him with watery eyes and a shaky bottom lip. “I completed the mission,” he whispers brokenly. “I completed the mission and I shot you.”

Steve has to force himself not to react when he realizes Bucky is speaking about his nightmare, which is a first for he usually turns down any attempts. “It’s okay, Bucky. I’m alright, see.”

Bucky shakes his head. “I shot you . . . here,” he repeats, placing his flesh hand over Steve’s heart, while his metal one grips Steve’s bicep. “You were dead. I looked down at you and remembered. I remembered you were Steve, and you were dead, and I shot you. I shot Steve and—”

He cuts himself and sniffles before lowering his head, metal hand slightly tightening its grip. His shoulders begin shaking as he lets out a quiet sob.

Steve wraps Bucky in his arms, pulling him to his chest not caring about the wetness seeping through his thin t-shirt. Bucky clings to him, wrapping his arms around Steve’s torso and burrowing into Steve’s chest, sobbing harder as the minutes go by.

“I shot you,” Bucky repeats. His voice is slightly muffled by Steve’s shirt, but that doesn’t hide the brokenness of his tone.

Steve rests his chin on Bucky’s head quietly shushing him and rocking him side to side, desperately wishing there was something he could say that would make everything all right.

*

Eventually Bucky falls asleep again. Steve is sitting on the bed with Bucky’s head pillowed in his lap, stroking his hair and whispering nothings under his breath. His breathing is calm and even, metal fingers curled on Steve’s thigh next to his head, lightly gripping the fabric of Steve’s pants.

Steve looks up and gives a worried look to Sam, who is sprawled out on the lounge chair on the other side of the room. When Sam catches Steve’s eye, his expression goes from thoughtful to sympathetic. He shifts his position so both feet are resting on the ground and he can settle his elbows against his knees.

“It’s alright, Steve,” Sam says in a low tone, careful so he doesn’t wake up Bucky. “The fact that Bucky spoke to us about his nightmare is a sign of progress, and with luck, he’ll start to open up more about his past. The only way he’s going to be able to properly move on is if he accepts the things he’s done and more importantly, that he had no choice in the matter.”

The Captain worries his bottom lip with his teeth but ultimately nods. Sam is right—they need to continuously remind him that he’s safe and that he has the ability to make his own decisions about even the most mundane of tasks. Steve turns his gaze back to Bucky and continues stroking Bucky’s hair, silently vowing to his sleeping friend that he will never let Hydra get their hands on him again.

Steve will die before he lets that happen.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mentions of past trauma, torture, brainwashing, slight gore, and death.

Steve is awoken the next morning by the sun’s rays filtering in through the curtain free windows. He yawns and looks around the room, finding Sam asleep in the lounge chair with his hands pillowed underneath of his head. Steve smiles to himself at the fact that Sam stayed in the room with them, even though he could have easily gone to bed once Bucky was calmed down.

The Captain sits in silence for a bit before deciding to get ready for the day. He isn’t the type of person to lay around and waste time in bed—that was always a Bucky thing. He moves to climb out of bed and pauses when he feels something heavy in his lap. Confused, he looks down and sees Bucky’s head resting against his thigh, metal fingers gripping Steve’s pants leg while Bucky’s mouth is open and drooling on the fabric.

Steve grins widely and settles back down, fearing that if he moves too much he’ll wake Bucky up. He starts stroking Bucky’s hair as he did the previous night, grinning wider when Bucky unconsciously shifts closer to Steve and rubs his face against Steve’s thigh as a cat would when it wants to be petted. Right as Steve is thinking about how he could sit like this all day and be content, his phone starts ringing downstairs, breaking the calm atmosphere of the early morning and jolting the two sleeping men awake.

Bucky is immediately on his feet with a knife in each hand and Steve doesn’t want to know if he was keeping them on his person, considering the fact Bucky is only wearing one of Steve’s long-sleeved muscle shirts and a pair of boxers. Sam jerks in his chair, asking sleepily if they’re under attack before attempting to climb out of the chair only for him to slip and fall to the floor.

Steve slowly climbs to his feet and moves to stand in front of Bucky, whose eyes are darting around the room assessing for what startled him. He tries to place a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder, but immediately backs off when Bucky fixes him with a glare and if looks could kill, Steve would be dead before he hit the ground.

“You’re safe, Bucky,” he says in a leveled tone, raising both hands in the air and taking a step backwards to give Bucky some air. “It’s my phone ringing downstairs. I didn’t realize it wasn’t silenced before I came up here.”

Bucky’s eyes scan over Steve’s face with uncertainty like he doesn’t believe him and Steve mentally prepares himself in case he needs to subdue Bucky so Sam can get away safely.

“Your phone?” he questions after a moment of silence.

Steve nods. “Yeah,” he says of the object that is still ringing downstairs. “It’s just my phone.”

Bucky purses his lips and returns the nod. He sets his weapons on the bed and slowly begins to relax his body.

Steve gives him a small smile before turning and leaving Bucky’s room. He makes his way down the hall and into the kitchen, grabbing his phone off the dining room table and accepting the call.

“Hello?” he says into the receiver.

_“Well, it took you long enough. I thought I was going to be sending mine and Sam’s nonexistent kids off to college before you answered.”_

“Hey Natasha,” he greets as a smile crawls onto his face.

_“Hey,”_ she says. _“I’m sorry that I’m going to have to skip the pleasantries this time, but I was just altered to an “abandoned” location just outside of Boston by one of my contacts. They informed me that there’s been some shady activity going on there and I thought it was worth a look.”_

“You think it’s Hydra?”

_“I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”_

Steve nods his head even though she can’t the motion. “Don’t worry. I’ll check it out and get back to you as soon as I can.”

_“Thank you, Cap,”_ she says in a singsong tone.

“No problem. So, I guess I’ll be seeing you soon then?”

_“You will . . . eventually.”_

Steve snorts. “Goodbye Nat.”

_“Bye.”_

Steve hangs up the phone and turns to leave the kitchen, barely managing to hold back a surprised yelp at finding Sam and Bucky standing a few feet away. He was so enwrapped in his conversation that he didn’t hear either one of them approaching. Okay, so he probably wouldn’t have heard Bucky regardless, but Sam managing to sneak up on him is a different matter entirely.

Steve shakes his head and relays what Nat told him. Sam looks increasingly concerned the longer Steve keeps talking and he can’t read the expression on Bucky’s face or even begin to imagine what he could possibly be feeling at this moment.

“You guys don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to,” Steve says, giving the pair the chance to opt out if they needed. Even though both of them are willingly hiding with him, he doesn’t want to have to get them into any more trouble than he already has . . . but Sam and Bucky are both looking as if they want to slap him for even considering leaving the two of them behind.

“Well, that answers that,” Steve says in acknowledgement of his friend’s offended expressions. “Let’s suit up.”

*

They arrive at the Hydra safe house (or what they think is a Hydra safe house) a few hours after Natasha texted Steve the coordinates while they were all getting ready. Steve, Sam, and Bucky are currently sitting at the edge of the wooded tree line and obscured by the overgrown bushes as they look out at the building, which is located in the middle of a large and open grassy field.

“How should we do this?” Sam asks in a lowered tone after several minutes of silent observation.

Steve thinks for a moment before looking over at his friends. “Quietly—at least until we get inside. Does that sound good?”

“I’m down with that,” Sam says while Bucky simply nods his confirmation of the plan.

The Captain turns back to the safe house and takes a breath before quickly moving from cover, running as fast as he can until he reaches the side of the building. He crouches down next to the window with Bucky on his left and Sam kneeling down next to Bucky. The group slowly makes their way around the side of the building, keeping low as low to the ground as possible until they arrive at the front door.

Steve kneels down next to the entrance while he friends do the same behind him . . . except less than thirty seconds later, Bucky slips in front of him and crouches in front of the door. They exchange a look—Steve’s being on of confusion and Bucky’s determination. He breaks eye contact and rises to his feet, kicking the door open and rushing into the building with Steve and Sam on scrambling at his heels.

Steve quickly scans the room once inside and gathers Intel on the one level building. There are at least a dozen scientists scattered around the room, surrounded by machinery and other forms of technology. He notices that in one corner there are two scientists blocking a metal chair with some sort of device hanging over it. Steve has no idea what that could possibly be but whatever it is, it doesn’t look safe.

One of the male scientists by the chair starts shouting something in German, which causes the others to panic. Steve’s German is rusty but he swears the man just said something along the lines of, “The asset is _alive_? How is this possible? He was supposed to die on the Helicarriers with the Captain! Quick! We have to prep and freeze him before the higher ups discover this complete and utter failure!”

Steve flinches at the words, his mouth curling downwards as he feels himself being consumed with rage. Before he can react, Bucky rushes past him and easily slashes the throat of the scientist closet to him. Steve watches Bucky fight in a trance, amazed at how he wields the knives in his hands as if they are extensions of his arms, similar to what he does with his shield and if he’s being quite honest, Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful or terrifying.

As soon as the final body drops to the floor, Bucky lunges for the chair, physically ripping it to shreds with his metal arm while letting out inhumane gurgles and growls. Steve watches him heartbroken for a few moments before it final registers that this is most likely the exact type of equipment that was used to wipe his mind for the past seventy years (if Bucky’s reaction is anything to go by).

Steve is completely horrified because to him it looks like a medieval torture device or something a tyrant would use to teach their “subjects” a lesson in obedience. He curls his left hand into a fist and grits his teeth to prevent himself from joining Bucky in tearing that machine apart. Hydra stole everything from Bucky—his memories, his free will, his _identity_. Steve doesn’t think he’s ever been this pissed at anyone in his entire life. Hydra _will_ pay for what they’ve done. He won’t stop until every single one of them—every single person who had a hand in ruining Bucky’s life— is dead.

The sound of metal being ripped apart suddenly stops and silence fills the room for the first time since they’ve arrived. Steve opens his eyes (when did he close them?) and finds Bucky staring at the ruins of the chair, his face is blank but his eyes are brimming with satisfaction. Worried, Steve turns to Sam, who is looking at Bucky with a grim expression though his eyes are betraying shreds of fear at being reminded of the horrors Bucky is capable of.

Sam catches Steve’s eye and switches his expression to one of urgency. “We need to get him out of here now,” he mouths out. “I have no idea what else could happen the longer he remains in this building.”

Steve nods his head in agreement, wanting nothing more than to get them out of here (both for Bucky’s sake and incase reinforcements show up). He gulps nervously and takes a half step forward, making sure to stay within Bucky’s line of sight.

“Buck?” he whispers cautiously.

That was the wrong thing to do for Bucky flinches with his entire body and flees the building, leaping out of the open window before Steve can even register the fact that he moved the first time.

_“Bucky!”_ Steve screams, running back through the front door and circling the Hydra safe house, eyes scanning the grassy field in a panic. His finds his breath escaping him and his heart pounding harder when he realizes that Bucky is nowhere to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited this like a million times before I was finally satisfied with this so I'm just going to post it now before I change my mind again. If there are any mistakes or inconsistencies I missed, I apologize. I hope you guys enjoyed :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was finished a looooot faster than I was planning. lol
> 
> Warning: past trauma, PTSD, and mentions of death.

They find Bucky back at the safe house hours later.

Steve is barely able to hold back his sigh of relief at seeing Bucky curled into a corner of the living room with his arms wrapped around his legs and forehead resting on his knees. He walks into the room, with Sam shutting the door behind them, and kneels in front of Bucky, making sure to keep his distance.

“Bucky?” Steve asks cautiously, his tone barely above a whisper so he doesn’t startle him and accidentally trigger a violent reaction.

Bucky slowly lifts his head from his knees, looking haunted but defiantly himself. “I . . . killed so many people,” he says, voice sounding hollow. “I remember—there was a senator, who was feeding information to our enemies. I was sent in to dispose of him with no witnesses and no indication that I was there. It was supposed to be simple. I broke into his house and completed the mission flawlessly. But, as I turned to leave . . . I saw his family in the foyer and I—”

Bucky cuts himself off with a sharp gasp and Steve understands he’s trying to say. Steve glances at Sam, who is wearing a neutral expression (though Steve can the grimness in his eyes and he doesn’t doubt that Bucky can too). He turns back to his friend, who is looking increasingly troubled from what he just revealed.

“I’m a monster. I’ve killed people—innocent people; people who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I could kill you—both of you in more ways than you could ever imagine. How could you possibly want to keep me around?”

“I need you,” Steve says earnestly as the barest hint of a smile crosses his lips.

Bucky stares at him in silent shock, his posture loose and mouth hanging slightly open as if he’s unable to comprehend someone having so much faith in him. “You’re an idiot, Rogers,” he blurts out after a few moments of silence have passed.

“Your idiot,” Steve says fondly, not caring about how his words could be taken. While Steve isn’t trying to be Bucky’s boyfriend, he still loves him and will do anything in his power to help him as long as he’s wanted.

It’s worth whatever happens later due to his unplanned confession because somehow, Bucky manages to crack a smile.

*

Steve eventually coaxes Bucky into sleeping a few hours after Sam turns in for the night. He helps Bucky into a standing position (he’s been sitting in that corner of the room for hours now) and leads him down the hallway. Steve drops Bucky off at his room before deciding to take a shower. Once clean, he towels off, and changes into his pajamas, which consist of a pair of American flag boxer shorts that Natasha bought him for his birthday (she also bought him matching sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a sweater but Steve has no idea where they could possibly be).

He smiles and shakes his head as he exits the bathroom. He goes to his bedroom and pauses in the doorway when he sees Bucky lying in his bed. His expression is slightly pinched, but at least he’s more relaxed than he was earlier. Steve smiles widely and moves further into the room, making sure to shut the door behind him. He sets his uniform on the dresser and walks over to the bed, carefully crawling up the length of the mattress since the bed is pressed against the wall and he doesn’t want to jostle Bucky too much in case he is really asleep.

As soon as Steve is settled underneath of the covers, Bucky rolls over and sprawls halfway on top of him, his right arm over Steve’s torso and right leg thrown over both of his. Bucky rests his head on the pillow next to Steve’s, warm breaths tickling against the side of his neck and quiet snores filling his ears.

Steve is both pleased and surprised at this development, figuring that Bucky would have wanted to be alone after the day he’s had. Deciding not to question the affection, Steve simply wraps an arm around his back and falls asleep, much quicker than he normally would have.

*

Steve wakes up the next morning feeling warm and content, unsurprised to find that he and Bucky shifted at some point during the night so they’re lying on their sides with their arms wrapped around each other. Steve’s hip is sore due to him sleeping directly on top of Bucky’s metal arm, but it’s completely worth it once he realizes that Bucky didn’t have a single nightmare that night.

He smiles and is still smiling when Bucky wakes up five minutes later, yawning and stretching within Steve’s arms. The movement accidentally causes their pelvises to brush together and Steve has to bite back a hiss at the unexpected contact. He can’t even being to describe how _incredible_ it feels and it’s been so long since he’s been touched intimately by Bucky that he can’t help himself from reacting.

“Steve?” Bucky mumbles sleepily as he rubs his eyes with his flesh hand. “What time is it?”

When Bucky rolls over to look at the alarm clock resting on the nightstand next to the bed, Steve sits up and takes the opportunity to clear his head. He yawns and stretches his arms above his head, sighing when his bones pop. Steve lowers his limbs and turns his head towards Bucky only to find him gazing at Steve appreciatively, eyes roaming across Steve’s bare torso with his lips curled into a smirk. Normally, Steve doesn’t like being stared at as if he’s a piece of meat that’s ready to be devoured, however this _is_ Bucky after all.

“Like what you see?” Steve teases, words falling from his lips faster than his brain can tell him to think about what he’s saying.

Bucky hums approvingly as he moves to sit up properly. He places his flesh hand on Steve’s face, letting it slide down to cup his neck and Steve can’t help but lean into the touch.

“You’re so different, yet the same and I—” Bucky says as if he’s in a daze. He licks his lips and Steve unconsciously follows the motion. “I liked you when you were small and I never got used to you being big and—”

He cuts himself off and furrows his brow in thought. “Did we . . .?” Bucky trails off and shakes his head as if he can’t find the right words. “Were we ever . . . before?”

Steve slowly nods his head, knowing exactly what Bucky is trying to say. He suspected their past relationship was going to be brought up at some point, but he didn’t think it would be happening this soon.

“Yeah, we were,” Steve confirms, voice coming out huskier than he was hoping. “You remember?”

Bucky nods his head. “Some. I remember touching you—and kissing you. You were everything to me and we . . . we promised that we would be together til the end of the line . . . right?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, his voice wavering slightly. “End of the line.”

Bucky lets out a quiet breath, his full lips slightly parting with the motion.

Steve wants to kiss him—so bad that it hurts and he has to curl his left hand into a fist as a way to ground himself so he doesn’t do anything rash. He takes a shaky breath and Bucky takes that as an incentive to shift even closer. He moves his right hand, trailing it down Steve’s chest and Steve has to suppress a shiver at the feather light touch. Bucky gazes at Steve, eyes shining with arousal and looking as though he wants to lean forward and—

“Yes! I _knew_ I had an extra box of pop tarts in here somewhere!”

The pair flinches at hearing Sam’s shout. Once the recover and notice their position, give each other a sheepish expression. Bucky removes his hand from Steve’s stomach and places it back at his side while Steve clears his throat and tries to get his breathing under control.

“So, do you wanna . . .?” Steve begins, gesturing to the front door with a jerk of his head after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence.

Bucky nods his head. “Yeah. We should hurry though before Sam eats them all.”

“Uh, I think that’s more of a _you_ thing,” Steve teases, his breath catching when Bucky’s amused grin lights up his entire face. He nudges Bucky in the side, encouraging him to get out of bed and following him out of the room once he does.

Steve is so distracted by what could have happened in the bedroom that he doesn’t realize until much later on, that Bucky didn’t pull any of his weapons at Sam’s loud exclamation.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featured song: “She’s So Perfect” by 5SOS.

Once breakfast is finished and the car is repacked, Steve, Sam, and Bucky head off to the next safe house, which is located somewhere in Ontario. Sam has been in a fantastic mood all morning ever since he revealed during breakfast that he received a text from Natasha in the middle of the night, saying that she was going to meet up with them once they arrived at the new safe house. He hasn’t been able to keep the grin off his face all morning—even Bucky eating the last of the pop tarts _again_ didn’t faze him.

Steve turns in his seat to check on Bucky, finding him curled up in the back and staring out the window. Before he can turn away, Bucky catches him looking and smiles knowingly at him. Steve smiles back though he’s a little embarrassed at being caught especially with what almost happened this morning. Don’t get him wrong, Steve _really_ wants to kiss Bucky, but he wouldn’t feel right doing so. Bucky isn’t the right frame of mind to be able to consent to anything and Steve will not take advantage of him nor cause him any harm—that’s the last thing that he would ever want to do.

Bucky gives Steve a curious look and Steve shakes his head. He turns back to face the road and the corner of his mouth quirks upward when he feels Bucky eyes still on him. They sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before Steve decides to turn on the radio for some background music. Some pop song plays over the speakers and after a moment, Sam begins laughing.

Steve furrows his brow in confusion. “What’s so funny?”

Sam shakes his head. “This is that damn American Apparel underwear song.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “The what? What’s American Apparel?”

Sam gives Steve a surprised glance. “You’ve never heard of—you know what, never mind.” He clears his throat. _“You look so perfect standing there in my American Apparel underwear. And I know now, that I’m so down.”_

“Why do you know the lyrics to this song?” Steve says with a raised eyebrow.

“Because they play it on the radio nonstop and it gets stuck in my head like a motherfucker,” Sam says before rolling his eyes.

Steve listens to the song for a few minutes until the chorus comes around again. _“I made a mixtape straight of ninety four—I got your ripped skinny jeans lying on the floor. And I know now, that I’m so down.”_

Sam laughs. “It’s catchy right? Dumb as hell, but catchy!”

“It really is,” Steve agrees with a shake of his head. Despite how juvenile he thinks the song is, it doesn’t stop him and Sam from harmonizing the rest of the lyrics.

_“Hey!_   
_Hey-e-ey! Hey-e-ey! Hey-e-ey! Hey-e-ey! Hey-e-ey!”_   
_Your lipstick stain is a work of art_   
_I got your name tattooed in an arrow heart_   
_And I know now, that I’m so down . . .”_

The song ends and Steve and Sam both crack up laughing. Steve turns to look at Bucky, who is covering his mouth with his left hand and looking like he’s trying not to grin. Sam begins singing along to the next song and when he lets out a screech that is his attempt at a high note, Bucky’s shoulders shake as he laughs silently into his metal hand.

*

They arrive at the next safe house in the middle of the evening after singing along to the radio for the better part of the eight and a half hour drive. Surprisingly, Bucky slept through most of it even though Sam and Steve were belting out notes both off key and at the top of their lungs. Sam parks next to the cabin and shuts off the car. Once Bucky picks the lock, the three of them carry their bags inside along with several food items for dinner.

This cabin is the smallest one they’ve stayed in so far. It’s a one level, one roomed building with a single bathroom located in the far right corner. To the left of the front door is a small living area, consisting of a worn couch, a half-rotten wooden coffee table and a television that looks like it’s been here since the fifties. To the right of the front door is a kitchenette with a small dining area set off to the side. Finally, in the far left corner of the cabin are two queen-sized beds with a bare nightstand resting between them.

Steve sets his bag and shield down in front of the bed that is pressed against the wall before plopping down on the sofa and wincing when it creaks underneath of his weight. Bucky joins him after a few moments, sitting down, kicking his legs up and settling his feet in Steve’s lap. Steve frowns and looks over at Bucky, who is giving Steve an expression that says, _‘Whatcha gonna do about it, punk?’_ emphasized by him crossing his ankles and grinning widely.

He rolls his eyes and unlaces Bucky’s boots, setting each one on the floor next to him before pulling off his socks and sticking them inside of his shoes. Steve takes Bucky’s right foot in both hands and begins kneading the skin, watching with a smirk as Bucky closes his eyes and rests the side of his head against the back of the sofa, his body relaxing under Steve’s touch.

Steve first learned about massages from a neighbor, who lived next door to him and Bucky for a few years before she fled to Canada with her husband in an attempt to avoid the draft. She showed him the basic technique that he tried out that same night on Bucky, who was immensely appreciative especially since it helped him relax and sleep better after working all day.

Steve is pulled from his thoughts when Bucky lets a quiet groan slip past his lips. He looks over and sees Bucky giving him a fond smile, his entire face alight with recognition.

“You used to do this for me every day after work,” Bucky says confidently. “You liked doing it and I liked being spoiled by you.”

Steve grins widely and eagerly nods his confirmation. He watches as Bucky closes his eyes again, practically melting into the couch and muttering his appreciation under his breath in Russian. Bucky is so chilled that he doesn’t even twitch when Sam accidentally knocks every pot and pan onto the floor behind them and swears loudly for a solid ten minutes.

*

A few hours later, Natasha joins them. As soon as she enters the cabin and shuts the door behind her, Sam runs over to her, barely waiting for Nat to set down her bag before he picks her up, and spins her around. Natasha does nothing except let out a very un-Natasha like giggle, wrap her limbs around Sam, and pull him into a kiss right in the middle of the small entryway. Steve has never seen Natasha like this before; it’s clear how much she trusts him to allow him to see her in such a vulnerable place and with a person she cares so much for.

He looks away from his friends and to his left only to find Bucky glancing between him and Natasha with a wary expression, body tensed as if he’d be ready to strike at any minute. Steve bites down on his lower lip, not liking that expression and knowing he needs to keep Bucky calm and distracted so he doesn’t try and attack Natasha especially with Sam right there.

Steve moves his hands and curls them loosely around Bucky’s ankles, idly stroking the skin exposed from his pants leg riding up with his right thumb. Bucky slowly relaxes under Steve’s touch and rests his head against the back of the couch again as Steve was hoping he would do, despite there being a new person in the room. He gives Steve a small, hesitant smile that Steve wholeheartedly returns, feeling special as he always did whenever he had Bucky’s full attention.

Right as Steve opens his mouth to speak, he feels familiar hands slam down on his shoulders hard. He jumps and holds back a yelp, taking extra care not to tighten his grip around Bucky’s ankles for fear of causing a violent reaction or accidentally breaking the delicate bones. He doesn’t like how Bucky tenses again, shifting his legs in Steve’s grasp as though he’s preparing himself in case he has to break the hold, which wouldn’t take long since Steve is barely holding on to him.

A curious hum comes from somewhere behind Steve along with a voice that says, “You must be losing your touch if I was able to sneak up on you so easily.”

Steve blows out a breath and resists the urge to frown at Natasha as she walks around the length of the couch and stands next to the coffee table, looking between him and Bucky with a neutral expression.

“Steve,” she says in greeting.

“Natasha,” Steve responds as he resumes stroking Bucky’s ankle, feeling him release some of the tension in his body but not nearly as much as before.

She smiles slightly, a gesture that falls from her face as she slides her gaze over to Bucky, regarding him with an expression that Steve cannot decipher. “Yasha.”

“Natalia.”

“You two know each other?” Sam asks as he moves to stand beside Natasha. He sounds as confused and lost as Steve feels.

“He trained me,” she says simply.

“She was my best student,” Bucky says with a hint of a prideful smile.

Natasha smirks in response.

Steve raises an eyebrow while Sam frowns at this new information. Natasha fixes them both a look that says not to ask and that she’ll explain in due time.

“I’m hungry,” she says changing the subject before lightly hitting Sam on the arm. “So, what’s for dinner tonight, Puff Momma? Chili?”

Neither Steve nor Bucky understand the reference, but Sam literally cries of laughter.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listening to: “End Game” by Rise Against (full album).
> 
> Warning: violence, blood, implied deaths, and mentions of PTSD.

“The base is right below us. The night guards should be the only ones on duty, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there were more considering the fact that this is Hydra we’re talking about,” Natasha announces.

During dinner, which ironically turned out to be chili, Natasha received a call from one of her many contacts about an active Hydra base located about an hour from their current position. She relayed this information as soon as she hung up and they set off after quickly finishing their meals and changing into their uniforms.

Steve nods in acknowledgement. He leans over the edge of the cliff to get a better view right as he feels Bucky grab on to his belt, the chill of his metal knuckles seeping through his uniform.

He quickly scans the roof of the base, noting that there are around ten guards located in various positions on the large roof space, all armed with automatic weapons and rocket launchers. Steve hums and straightens his posture, resisting the urge to smile when Bucky’s death grip on his belt immediately relaxes into a loose hold.

“So Cap,” Natasha says casually as if they’re about to go to the mall instead of preparing to take down a criminal organization. “You got a plan?”

Steve purses his lips and turns to Bucky, whose eyes are scanning the barely visible horizon, searching for any possible threat that could jump out from the darkness of the night and attack them. “What do you think we should do?” he asks him.

Bucky looks over at Steve, appearing genuinely surprised that he’s allowed to give input on their plan and that expression only fuels Steve’s desire to kill every single person in that base below. He shifts, angling his body more toward Steve’s and leaning in close.

Steve’s arm automatically curls around Bucky’s back like he used to do when they were alone in his tent and discussing battle strategies during the war _(While the Commandos knew about their relationship and didn’t care, he and Bucky still didn’t want to push their luck. They were careful to only show their romantic affections for each other when no one else was looking)._

Bucky looks at Steve with mirth dancing in his eyes. “I want to blow it up,” he says with a small grin.

Steve hums. “It’s like you read my mind.”

He turns away from him and looks over at Sam and Nat, who are regarding him with teasing (Sam) and curious (Natasha) expressions. He shakes his head and says, “Sam, you and Bucky go down first and take out as many of those snipers as you can. Nat and I will follow you in a minute.”

“You got it,” Sam says before looking over at Bucky. “Ready?”

Bucky nods once. He stands, releasing Steve’s belt and slipping out from underneath of his arm. Bucky walks over to the tip of the ledge and peers over it. He looks behind him, taking a few steps backwards before running forward and leaping off the edge.

Steve shouts Bucky’s name in a panic while Sam lets out an inhumane screeching noise.

“Wait for me, dumbass!” Sam shouts, immediately releasing his wings from the pack and jumping after him.

Steve scrambles to peer over the ledge, sighing with relief when Sam catches Bucky midair by the straps of his uniform. The Captain forces himself to lean back onto his heels, taking a calming breath and repeating to himself that Bucky is fine. They’re not in the Alps and they’re not on a train. Bucky isn’t screaming—falling and Steve isn’t staring at him debating on what to do and immediately feeling guilty when the opportunity to jump after him has passed and—

“Steve?”

Steve jerks at the sound of Natasha’s voice. He turns to her, noting the dip in her brow and eyes displaying her concern.

“Yeah?” he says, proud of himself for keeping his voice levelled.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” she asks, frowning when he doesn’t answer right away.

Steve shrugs. “Honestly, I don’t know why he did that,” he says, knowing that wasn’t what Natasha was referring too. He gestures towards the base. “You ready.”

Natasha purses her lips as though she wants to keep talking, but she ultimately nods her head and drops the subject (something that Steve is thankful for). She crawls over and tucks herself against his side, unholstering one of her pistols and cocking the weapon in case they run into any resistance.

Steve curls his left arm tightly around Natasha and together they hop off the ledge, Steve focused on shielding them from stray bullets while Natasha takes down the last few hostiles.

They land safely on the roof after Steve tucks his shield underneath of their feet, allowing the disk to take the entire impact of their descent. Steve and Natasha step off the shield and Steve reattaches it to his back. They quickly make their way over to where Sam and Bucky are standing on the opposite side of the roof and staring at covered air duct.

Once Steve and Natasha are closer to his position, Bucky rips off the cover with his metal arm and tosses it aside. He climbs in first, followed by Sam, Nat, and Steve (in that order).

They crawl through the surprisingly wide vents (large enough to accommodate the width of Steve’s shield and Sam’s wing pack) for an indeterminable amount of time, before it becomes obvious that Natasha is getting bored.

“Sam, I gotta say that your ass is looking killer in those jeans,” Natasha says quietly, her appreciation evident in her voice.

“I know,” Sam says and Steve can hear the smugness in his tone. “Why do you think I wore them?”

“Aw, you didn’t have to get all dolled up for lil oh me,” Natasha teases.

“Shush,” Bucky hisses. He pauses in front of an uncovered vent and silently observes the soldiers below before motioning for them to wait inside. Bucky unsheathes one of his knives and enters the room.

Steve chews on his bottom lip while Bucky fights off the guards, unable to stop himself from worrying about Bucky’s safety as he listens to the sounds of muffled screams and skin being slashed.

“Clear,” Bucky says after a few minutes, tone sounding eerily blank.

Sam jumps through the opening first with Nat and Steve following closely behind, taking care not to step on the bodies or in the pools of blood that are coating the concrete floor.

Steve looks around the room, finding several different sized monitors spanning the wall in front of him with two keyboards sitting on the panel below them and four chairs bolted to the ground in front it. Natasha and Sam are in front of him, leaning over two of the chairs and rapidly typing on the keyboards while Bucky sitting in one of the chairs furthest away, feet propped up as he idly cleans his knife with a rag he must have found.

“All alarm systems and forms of communication have been disabled,” Natasha says as she hacks into the database.

“How many soldiers do you think are around?” Steve asks.

“Too many,” Sam states with a frown. He’s been cycling through the cameras on three of the monitors in an attempt to determine a rough layout of the base. “Shit, it’s like there’s a small army in here or something.”

“Huh,” Natasha says curiously. “So, I just found a hidden self-destruct sequence. If you want, I can hack into it and initiate the countdown.”

“How long would we have?” Steve asks.

“Ten minutes,” Natasha responds without taking her eyes off the monitors in front of her.

Steve looks between Sam and Bucky, who both nod their confirmation without any hesitation. He returns their nods with one of his own and says, “Do it.”

Natasha’s fingers immediately fly over the keyboard as she continues hacking into the database.

Roughly five minutes of continuous typing pass before a digital clock appears on each of the monitors and begins counting down from the ten-minute mark. Since all the alarms are shut down, the voice over that would normally appear over the speakers and alert the base that it is due to explode is no longer working. The soldiers outside have no idea of what’s about to occur.

“Alright, let’s move,” Steve says. He crosses the length of the room and pries open the metal door before ushering his friends out and into the hallway.

*

They make their way through the base as quickly and quietly as they can, taking care avoid the plethora of soldiers continuously patrolling the hallways. Sam is leading the way since he was the only one to get a decent enough look at the base’s layout, with Natasha, Bucky, and Steve trailing behind him.

“Almost there, guys. Once we make it down this hallway and out that side door, we’re home free,” Sam says.

“Good; I’m looking forward to taking a nice, long bubble bath when we get back,” Natasha says.

“We don’t have any more bubble bath—Sam used the last of it two days ago,” Bucky says.

“Stop glaring at me, Natasha, you know how much I love the smell of bubble bath soap,” Sam says without even turning around to see her expression.

Natasha snorts quietly. “You just like popping all the bubbles.”

Steve doesn’t hear Sam’s response for the familiar sound of a ray gun charging up drowns him out. He turns around only to find roughly twenty soldiers piling into the hallway behind them. The soldier with the ray gun is at the forefront of the crowd and aiming the weapon for Bucky’s head.

“Get down!” Steve shouts at the same time that the soldier fires the weapon. He sees his friends throw themselves to the ground in his peripheral and he automatically does the same. The blast soars over their heads and hits the wall on the opposite end of the hallway next to the door they’re trying to escape from.

“What are we gonna do?” Sam yells from somewhere behind him, worry evident in his tone.

“You guys go ahead! I’m right behind you!” Steve shouts. He climbs to his feet, pulling the shield off his back and holding it in front of him as the soldiers begin charging towards his positon.

*

The fight doesn’t last long, unsurprisingly.

Steve takes down the final soldier before securing his shield on his back once more. He turns to run down the rest of the hallway when the ground begins shaking violently, causing him to lose his balance and have to stumble to regain his footing.

Steve swears when he realizes that he’s out of time. The base is collapsing in on itself, debris quickly blocking the doorway at the end of the hall and Steve knows that he won’t be able to make it out in time. All he can do is curl into a ball, lift his shield above his head and hope that, if he survives, he’ll be able to dig himself out.

No matter what happens to him, though, he’s glad that Sam, Natasha, and Bucky are safe.

“ _Steve!_ ” Bucky yells, with a hint of desperation in his voice. Through the falling dust and concrete, he can see Sam and Natasha holding on to Bucky’s arms in an attempt to prevent him from running back into the base and getting himself killed.

“Get out of here!” Steve shouts at the top of his lungs.

“ _No_ —not without you!” is the last thing Steve hears before everything goes dark.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listening to: “Fallen” by Mya, “Anaconda,” by Nicki Minaj, and “***Flawless Remix” by Beyoncé and Nicki Minaj. 
> 
> Warning: Claustrophobic elements, death mention, and brief mention of gore.

_“Stevie, wake up! You’re gonna miss it!”_

_Steve groans as his peaceful slumber is interrupted. “Go away, Buck. ‘M sleeping.”_

_When Bucky doesn’t respond, Steve cracks open one of his eyes and nearly has a heart attack. Bucky’s leaning over the edge of the bed, with his face hovering so close to Steve’ that he has to go cross eyed in order to properly look at Bucky._

_“Jesus Christ, are you trying to kill me?”_

_Bucky’s responding grin lights up his entire face. “You shouldn’t take the Lord’s name in vain, Stevie.”_

_Steve rolls his eyes so hard that he’s surprised they didn’t pop out of their sockets._

_Bucky leans away from him, grabbing onto Steve’s nightshirt (which is one of Bucky’s that doesn’t fit him anymore) and lightly tugs it. “Steve,” he says, voice taking on a higher pitch._

_Steve resists the urge to roll his eyes again. “Alright, Buck. What’s so important that you have to wake me up at . . . seven thirty in the morning?”_

_Bucky smirks and Steve hates that look for it only means trouble. “Five words—first snow of the season.”_

_Steve’s eyes widen comically in surprise. The papers have been calling for snow for the past three days, but Steve doubted it because it’s been unusually sunny and warm for a November in New York._

_Bucky’s smirk increases and Steve has the urge to kiss it off him, which is exactly what he does. Bucky hums against his lips, moving to wrap an arm around Steve’s thin frame and tug him closer. Steve goes willingly, sliding one of his arms around Bucky’s neck and pressing their lips harder together._

_They stay in that position for some time before parting breathlessly. Steve takes deep breaths and smiles when Bucky’s hand rubs down the length of his back, shivering when that hand slips underneath his shirt, cooling Steve’s warmed skin._

_“What about the snow?” Steve whispers curiously, when Bucky begins nosing at his hair._

_“We’ll see it later,” he says before capturing Steve’s lips again, mouth instant and warm and it’s all Steve can do to just hang on . . ._

Steve reluctantly opens his eyes, feeling a painful longing consuming his entire being. He misses the way he and Bucky used to be—all of the laughs and inside jokes, Bucky snoring loudly in his ear and hogging all the blankets; hell, a part of him even misses the double dates they would go on to keep up appearances.

He loves Bucky—he will always love Bucky no matter whom he decides to become. He just misses how comfortable they used to be around each other.

He sighs and looks around, discovering that he’s trapped underneath hundreds of tons of concrete, knowing that the only reason he’s alive right now is because of his shield (even the serum wouldn’t prevent a heavy piece of rubble from smashing his head in). Steve chews on the inside of his cheek, trying to come up with a plan. He has no idea how long he’s been down here and he needs to leave soon or else he runs the risk of suffocation.

With that thought in mind, he forces his numbed and exhausted body into motion, using his shield to shift the heavy concrete stones out of his way so he shimmy through the narrow opening that is unveiled with every slight movement.

*

Steve doesn’t know how long it takes, but he eventually finds himself standing on top of the rubble, gazing at the landscape lit up by the mid-day sun in awe because he actually made it out alive. His looks around the area for a moment longer before his expression turns into one of horror.

Bucky is going to _kill_ him.

Bucky never took to Steve risking his life, both pre and post serum. They got into many arguments about Steve putting himself into what Bucky deemed to be unnecessary danger and how one of these days, he was going to get himself killed. Steve would always counter that if he didn’t do it, who else would because he sure as hell wasn’t about to let Bucky or the Commandos put themselves in danger like that because at least he had a better chance of making it out, thanks to the serum.

Whenever Steve would make that comment, Bucky looked as though he wanted to punch his face in before he stalked off and Steve would have to endure receiving side-eyed glares and clipped words from Bucky for the rest of the day.

He shakes his head, clearing his mind of those thoughts; he doesn’t have time to be worrying about the past right now. Steve huffs out a breath and begins his slow descent down the ruined structure, taking extra care not to upset any of the concrete blocks and accidentally trap himself underneath again.

After an indeterminable amount of time, Steve finds him back on solid ground and he stumbles away from the rubble. Once he’s a safe enough away, he checks himself for any injuries, pleased to discover that nothing is broken. He has some cuts and bruises, but that’s nothing that the serum won’t take care of.

Steve pulls out his phone, deciding that the fastest way out of here is to have Sam or Natasha come down and get him. He presses the button to turn on the device and furrows his brow when the screen remains black. He frowns and stares at the device, trying to figure out what’s wrong with it before he realizes the battery must have died at some point during the night. He sighs heavily and puts away his phone, not looking forward to the long walk ahead of him.

*

He arrives to the safe house that evening after walking all afternoon. Steve scans the front of the cabin and smiles when he sees Natasha sitting on the front porch, resting her chin on top of her knees and appearing lost in her thoughts. She’s still wearing her uniform and Steve hopes that she hasn’t been sitting out here all night.

“Natasha,” he calls.

Her head perks up at the sound of her name and she looks around before spotting him standing a few yards away. A genuine smile crawls across her face and she propels herself off the front porch, jogging over to him and gently wrapping her arms around his middle once she reaches his position.

Steve returns the hug while a huge grin appears on his face. He and Natasha separate after a minute, his expression slipping into one of concern once he sees the look on her face.

“What’s wrong?”

Natasha shakes her head. “If I would have known that was going to happen, I never would have done it,” she says, sounding remorseful, which is a tone he’s never heard come from Natasha.

Steve shrugs, holding back a wince at his shoulder being agitated with the movement. “It’s not like you sent those soldiers after me,” he says, pleased when his words make her smile. He’s not going to allow for her to feel guilty about something she was unable to control.

Natasha pats him on the shoulder and says, “Come on, let’s go inside. The boys will be happy to see you.”

Steve follows Natasha inside and immediately greeted with the sight of Sam rushing around and cleaning the cabin, which is something he does when he’s anticipating bad news. Steve has walked in on Sam scrubbing down their various motel rooms after returning from solo ventures when they were still searching for Bucky.

“Sam, you’ll never believe what fossil just crawled out of the museum,” she says to Sam, whose back is towards them.

Sam snorts amused. “I should have never let you watch ‘Night at the Museum.’ Nat, you and I both know that fossils don’t just get up and—” he cuts himself off once he turns around. “Steve?”

Steve smiles and gives him a little wave. “Hey man.”

Sam returns the smile and walks over to Steve before pulling him into a hug that Steve wholeheartedly returns. After a few moments, they separate and Sam gives him a once over as if he’s checking for injuries, but most of them healed when he was walking back.

“I’m alright, Sam,” he says.

Sam looks like he doesn’t believe him, but ultimately nods his head.

Steve opens his mouth to speak when the sound of a door opening grabs his attention and his heart nearly stops at seeing Bucky standing in the bathroom doorway, fresh from a shower. He’s wearing Steve’s favorite pair of black sweats that haven’t been washed in who knows how long and Steve is surprised that Bucky even put them on his body— they probably smell terrible.

Steve is so happy to see him that he doesn’t register the expression on Bucky’s face, until he’s facing Sam and Natasha, who are staring at him with unconcealed surprise and fear. He wonders what could be causing those expressions when his cheek suddenly feels like it’s on fire and he that’s when he realizes that Bucky just slapped him directly in the face.

“What the fuck is the matter with you, huh? Are you _trying_ to get your punk ass killed?” Bucky shouts.

Steve flexes his jaw and places his left hand to his stinging cheek, thankful that Bucky didn’t slap him with his metal hand. He turns to face Bucky, who’s standing in front of him with eyes that are flashing with barely restrained anger.

“Bucky, what the hell—”

“Why you _always_ need to do shit like this? What—is there something wired in your brain that says ‘Oh look, here’s a dangerous situation! Let me immediately throw myself into it without any concern for my own safety!’”

Bucky fixes him with an expectant look, placing his hands on his hips and impatiently tapping his metal index finger against his pelvic bone.

Steve gulps. He racks his brain for one of his many excuses and is horrified to find his mind completely blank. When he doesn’t respond quick enough, Bucky’s mouth curls into a deep frown and he exhales heavily from his nose.

“Do you see what I mean? You can’t keep doing this because one of these days you’re going to end up in the wrong place at the wrong time and you’re going to get yourself killed and—”

Steve stares at Bucky in disbelief as he starts yelling at him in Russian. This is the most Bucky has sounded like his old self since he and Sam found him in New York roughly a week and a half ago. Never in his _entire_ life has Steve ever been so happy to be scolded before. He’s unable to stop the thrilled grin from appearing on his face, an expression that only serves to make Bucky even angrier.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: past trauma, mentions of PTSD, and death mention.

Steve is awoken in the middle of the night by Bucky kicking him in the shin . . . hard. As soon as he opens his eyes, Bucky’s face comes into view, his expression pinched, lower lip drawn in between his teeth and entire body shaking. Bucky’s having a nightmare and it looks like it’s taking all he has not to thrash and scream until his voice gives out.

Worried, Steve places his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, the latter’s eyes opening as soon as he’s touched.

“Steve?” he says, sounding dazed.

“Hey,” Steve says gently. “Are you okay?”

Bucky shakes his head.

“Did you have a nightmare?”

Bucky nods.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Bucky is silent for a few minutes before he speaks. “I was . . . we were in a building that was on fire and the only way out was to cross an unstable beam that fell in between the crosswalks. I made it across, but the beam fell and you were trapped on the other side.”

Steve knows he’s talking about the Hydra factory in Germany where Steve rescued him and the rest of the 107th. He resists the urge to grit his teeth and scowl at the memory as he continues listening to Bucky speak.

“When we realized there was no way for you to get across, I knew we were both going to die there. I mean, you were _Steve_ —I wasn’t going to just leave you behind. We promised the end of the line and I honestly thought that was it for us . . . at least until you decided to jump like a dumb fuck.”

That brings a smile to Steve’s face. “I overestimated the jump and wouldn’t have made it if you didn’t catch me and pull me onto the crosswalk.”

“We didn’t have time to wonder how I possibly could have managed to do that before we had to run for our lives,” Bucky says. “And even after that, we had a war to fight.”

“There are so many things we should have— _I_ should have done for you,” Steve says, guilty. “I’m so sorry I failed you.”

Bucky frowns. “You didn’t. Even though I was pissed that you were fighting in this war I wanted you to have no part in, it was . . . almost bearable with you around. But, you’re still a dumbass for even joining up. You were safe in Brooklyn.”

Steve laughs quietly. “Yeah, but I needed to be with you more.”

A fond smile crosses Bucky’s face that reaches his eyes and Steve feels his heart swell at having that familiar gaze directed at him.

“We should try and get some more sleep,” Steve suggests after a few moments of compatible silence. They’ve both had long days and can use all of the rest they can get.

Bucky nods his head. “Okay.”

Steve removes his hand from Bucky’s shoulder, watching as he rolls over. Before Steve can move any further, Bucky gently grabs onto his wrist and tugs. Steve quickly gets the hint and shifts closer so he can properly wrap his arm around Bucky’s waist, threading metal fingers through flesh and pulling Bucky against his chest.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“ . . . Thanks.”

Steve smiles against Bucky’s hair. “Don’t mention it.”

*

Steve wakes up with the sun the next morning per usual. He carefully rolls over so he can stretch only to see Sam propped against the headboard of the second bed, reading a paperback novel that Steve has never heard of while Natasha sleeps soundly next to him.

Steve slowly sits up, taking extra care not to jostle the bed too much and accidentally wake up Bucky. He mirrors Sam’s position before saying, “On your other left.”

Sam snorts quietly and turns his head, greeting Steve with a smile. “Did you think of that all on your own or did you use the internet for help?”

“You know the internet isn’t exactly my domain,” he says to which Sam lets out a light laugh.

The pair falls silent and Steve glances around the room with little interest. Now that he’s waking up more, he’s finding himself becoming more curious about what happened while he was buried underneath of the rubble. It’s obvious that Bucky didn’t take it too well and Steve hopes that happening to him wasn’t too much of an inconvenience for Sam and Natasha. Steve chews on the inside of his cheek, trying to decide on whether or not he should ask Sam about yesterday.

“I can hear you thinking,” Sam says as if he just read Steve’s mind. “Something you want to talk about?”

“Yeah,” Steve admits. He turns to face Sam, noticing that he’s set his novel aside and is giving Steve his full attention. “Yesterday, um—”

“You want to know what happened after that building fell on your dumb ass?” Sam tries with a raised eyebrow.

Steve lets out a startled laugh. “Well, when you put it like that,” he says to which Sam smiles. “If it’s not too much trouble, I would like to know.”

“Nah, it’s cool. Hell, I’d be curious too.” Sam keeps the smile on his face for a moment longer before his expression falls. “Honestly? You scared us half to death. Bucky tried running back into the building and Natasha and I had to hang on to him for dear life so he didn’t get himself killed and man, he is one strong motherfucker too. When I say that we barely managed to hang on, I mean we _barely_ managed. That was pure luck right there.”

“Once the building completely collapsed, Bucky dropped to the ground like the fight just drained out of him. He was in shock—we were in shock because dammit, this was just supposed to be routine. I mean, we’d done this shit before when we were first looking for Bucky, you know. I looked at Natasha and she was just staring at the rubble like she didn’t know what to do next and I can bet I was probably wearing the same expression. And Bucky—”

Sam cuts himself off and takes a breath. “Bucky just started screaming and that was probably one of the worst things I’ve ever heard, definitely in the top ten. He just sounded so lost and broken like his entire world had been uprooted from underneath of him again. He was literally voicing my thoughts in the form of terrified yells and the worst thing: he didn’t stop until Natasha knocked him out with a tranquilizer. Neither of us wanted to do it, but we had no choice. Bucky wasn’t going to move under his own power and we were still in enemy territory. As much as we both wanted to start digging for you, I promised you that I would get us out of there even if it meant leaving you . . . so we left.”

“When he regained consciousness, the first words out of his mouth were “Where’s Steve?” Natasha explained what happened, but he thought she was _lying_. He went on a tirade in mixed Russian and English, saying that you had to be somewhere nearby because he would never have left you behind. We tried our best to calm him down, but that only angered him further and then he just up and left.”

“Natasha and I followed him in the car and boy is he fast as fuck, because not only did he lead us back to the rubble, which was a little over an hour away, but he was already digging by the time we arrived. We decided that since it was already daybreak, we would have a better chance at finding you and defending ourselves against anyone that may still be lurking, so we climbed out of the car and searched for you for . . . about three, maybe four hours. We obviously didn’t find you and we were all exhausted—none of us had any sleep and we knew we needed to move safe houses soon.”

“When it came to leaving, neither of us wanted to knock him out again, so we told him that there is a possibility that you had already escaped and were making your way back to the safe house. Obviously, you weren’t here when we returned and he tried to leave again, but I somehow managed to make a deal with him. I told him that if you weren’t back by seven that he and I would go out to dig while Natasha hung around here in case you showed up. He agreed and we all puttered about impatiently until I suggested around five that we all take relaxing baths and that Bucky could go first. He was in there for about ten minutes before you showed up and of course, you were here for the rest.”

Steve gulps, feeling guilty at everything he’s just been told. He was worried that once they started reintegration that Bucky wouldn’t take to it too well, and this isn’t how he wanted to introduce Steve (as well as Sam and Natasha) going on solo missions without him and eventually Bucky on his own without the other three. “I’m so sorry, Sam. I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble—that wasn’t my intention at all.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Don’t even start with that shit, Rogers,” he says. “I hope you are listening closely when I say: you, Bucky, and Natasha are my family and if there’s one thing I do, it’s that I take care of my own.”

Steve blows out a breath, feeling completely overwhelmed. He smiles widely. “Have I ever told you how much you mean to me?”

Sam grins. “Yes, but I will continue to accept all forms of affection in Golden Corral coupons and a new pair of Louis Vuitton’s for Natasha.”

Steve responds with a laugh.

*

He and Sam are making breakfast a few hours later when Bucky and Natasha finally wake up.

Natasha crawls out of bed first still half-asleep and mumbling something about fishnets and tacos. She stretches and yawns widely as she slowly walks to the kitchenette, giving Sam a good morning kiss before wrapping her arms around his torso and pressing her cheek against his back.

Sam smiles and flips one of the pancakes he’s been working on. He begins humming a slow tune that Steve is unfamiliar with, gently rocking his body side to side. Natasha closes her eyes and smiles fondly as she presses her body closer to his and sways with him.

Steve watches them for a moment longer with a small smile before going back to attempting to make toast with a lighter (Sam’s idea that was formed once they got over their initial surprise of the bread still being in date). He’s almost halfway done with one of the slices before he feels a warm body press itself against his side.

“Good morning,” Steve says as he sets down the lighter throws his arm around Bucky’s shoulders, pleased when Bucky leans against him. “Did you have a good sleep?”

“I did,” Bucky responds.

Steve smiles and places a kiss on the crown of Bucky’s head. He realizes what he did a few seconds later and immediately tries to apologize (because wow, he really needs to think before he acts), but stops when Bucky looks up at him with a fond smile and eyes that are dancing with amusement.

Steve decides to take another risk before his conscious can catch up with him again, dropping his next kiss on Bucky’s forehead and smiling against his skin when he feels Bucky’s contented sigh brush against his neck.

It’s in this moment, with Bucky in his arms and Sam and Natasha by his side, that Steve knows for sure that they’re all going to be okay.


	16. Epilouge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter everyone! Whether you’ve been here from the beginning or just found me now, THANK YOU so much for all of your support. It was your lovely comments that helped me spur out these chapters as quick as I have been (which is unusual for me lol). Anyway, I hope you enjoy the conclusion of this story. Again, thank you all SO much! 
> 
> Just for clarification, this takes place two years after Chapter 15.

Steve can hardly believe that it’s been two years since he and Sam and found Bucky holed up inside of their old Brooklyn apartment,

That it’s been a year and a half since Sam began helping Bucky successfully reintegrate back into society (Since that process began, Bucky’s gained back a majority of his memories (the few he’s missing are from his time as Winter Soldier, but he’s not worried about regaining those any time soon). He’s been able to discover who he is and form his own identity without feeling like he has to live up to or atone for his past (Natasha helped him out in this regard seeing as she had to do the exact same thing when she escaped the Red Room herself). He does still have nightmares, which is expected, but thankfully, they are a rare occurrence),

That it’s been one year—almost to the day—since Steve and Bucky rekindled their romantic relationship after learning how to be friends again (It happened after Steve nearly died (again). He tried to keep it a secret from Bucky since Steve was on a solo op to gather Intel when it occurred, but as usual, he found out. Bucky yelled at Steve until he was blue, called him an idiot and several other words Steve will not repeat before hauling him into a kiss right in front of Sam and Natasha. Steve kissed back without hesitation and later, after having a long talk in private, they decided to give it another shot),

That it’s been three months since Sam prosed to Natasha with a ring he got from a twenty five cent machine in San Diego (They were still on the run. It wasn’t safe for him to go to the jewelers and “get the ring she deserved” (his words) so he improvised because he didn’t want to wait any longer just in case something happened. Steve had honestly never seen Natasha look so thrilled before—she accepted before Sam finished talking and practically tackled him to the ground in a hug after he placed the ring on her finger),

That it’s been one week since they defeated Hydra once and for all (They celebrated by having a pizza and beer party in the joint hotel room they checked into in Italy. There, Natasha proceeded to drink both Sam and Bucky under the table, vowing that one day she would do the same to Steve before passing out at around three in the morning),

And that it’s been three days since they’ve returned to DC and moved into Sam’s house (Steve and Bucky moved their little possessions into Sam’s guest room while Natasha placed hers into the master bedroom).

Steve smiles to himself as he thinks back over everything they’ve been through because despite the fact that these past few years since DC have been extremely stressful, he can honestly say that they’ve been among some of the best he’s experienced.

“Steve?”

A familiar voice saying his name pulls Steve out of his thoughts (he didn’t even realize he zoned out). He looks up and finds Bucky leaning against the doorframe with one eyebrow raised in a curious manner.

“Are you . . . _reminiscing_ while polishing your shield?” he asks with a teasing smile on his lips.

“Maybe,” he says, not denying Bucky’s words.

Bucky snorts. He opens his mouth to speak when Sam’s voice interrupts him.

“Hey weenies, dinner is served!” Sam calls from downstairs.

“Okay,” Bucky yells back. “Why does he keep calling us that?”

Steve laughs. “Probably because we keep responding to it.” He sets aside the cloth and his shield before rising from the bed. He walks over to Bucky, placing his hands on Bucky’s waist before leaning in to kiss his full lips, smiling inwardly when Bucky presses back.

Bucky hums. “If you keep this up, we won’t make it out of the bedroom.”

Steve pulls away and smirks. “Maybe I don’t want to,” he says before leaning in and kissing Bucky again.

“Hey! Let’s get a move on!” Natasha shouts from downstairs. “The sooner we eat, the sooner Sam can give me a foot rub!”

“Uh, you know I never actually agreed to that right?” Sam counters.

“You will,” Natasha says, her voice teasing yet full of promise.

Bucky pulls away and rolls his eyes at their banter. “Come on,” he says before taking Steve’s hand and leading him downstairs.

*

“So, anyone have any big exciting plans now that we’re back here full time?” Sam asks halfway through dinner, which is simply spaghetti and meatballs that he and Natasha made together once he got home from his first day back at work.

“I was actually thinking about volunteering at the V.A.,” Bucky says after a beat of silence. “I mean, Sam you helped me so much with my recovery and now that I’m in a better place, I want to help others try to understand that what we’ve done in the past doesn’t define us and it only does if we let it. You taught me that, Sam, and I want to teach others about that as well.”

Sam beams. “I’m glad I could help,” he says, sounding completely overwhelmed at the praise. “We’d be lucky to have you. In fact, you could start tomorrow if you want.”

Bucky nods and gives him a small smile. “I’d like that.”

“Hey Steve, it looks like we’re gonna have to find work as well,” Nat teases after a few moments before lightly nudging him in the side. "We can’t let our men be the only ones bringing home the bacon.”

“What would you two do though?” Sam asks curiously. “I haven’t seen any want ads in the paper recently for a former Russian assassin and Captain who don’t follow the rules.”

“Hilarious,” Natasha deadpans.

“We could always be Kung Fu Fighters,” Steve says casually. “You know, since we’re both fast as lightning and all.”

Natasha spits out her drink in surprise.

While she coughs and hits her chest with a closed fist, her phone chimes. She wipes off her mouth with the back of her hand before pulling the device out of her pocket. “It’s a text from Clint,” Nat says before reading the message aloud. _“’Yo Nat, I just moved into Avengers Tower and it’s a sweet deal, you have to come okay, Stark literally has a hot tub within a hot tub!’”_

Natasha puts away her phone before looking around the table curiously. “Do you guys want to go?”

Steve looks to Bucky, who is wearing a thoughtful expression on his face. He gently nudges Bucky’s foot with his own. “What do you say? You wanna go home?”

Bucky gives Steve a small smile before reaching across the table and lacing their fingers together. “I am home,” he says.

“Whelp, looks like we’re staying put,” Sam says before clapping his hands together once. “Hey, is anyone in the mood for desert? I still have an unopened box of Cinnabons that’ll go bad if we don’t eat them within the next few days.”

Sam gets up from the table and goes over to the pantry. He rummages around inside for a few minutes before coming back to the table with a frown and a nearly empty box of Cinnabons. “Alright, which one of you ate _eleven_ out of the dozen box and then tried to hide it from the rest of us,” he says, his eyes automatically locking onto Natasha, who’s favorite desert just so happens to be Cinnabons.

Natasha shrugs. “I’m not even sorry; they were delicious.”

Once she finishes speaking, Natasha rises from her chair and walks over to Sam, swiping the last Cinnabon from the box and shoving the entire thing into her mouth. Sam squawks in an undignified manner and in response, she wipes her dirty fingers on his sweater and grins, a gesture that causes her cheeks to puff out comically since her mouth is still full of Cinnabon.

Sam snorts before it turns into a full on laughing fit. He shakes his head and looks at the still grinning Natasha, which only causes him to laugh harder.

Steve shakes his head and turns to Bucky, who is watching their friends with a fond expression on his face. He gives Bucky’s hands a gentle squeeze, his eyes lighting up when Bucky looks over at him curiously.

“I love you,” Steve mouths.

Bucky smiles widely. “I love you too.”

Steve leans over the table and Bucky meets him hallway, connecting their lips together in a slow and sweet kiss. In the background, he can hear Natasha wolf whistle while Sam makes over exaggerated kissing noises and Steve can’t help but grin into their kiss.

Bucky’s right, Steve concludes. This is home.


End file.
